


Bring Me To Life

by aschicca



Series: BMTL [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aschicca/pseuds/aschicca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin Taylor was bashed at his prom and now lives as a recluse. When, on the night of a snow storm, someone knocks at his door, Justin's life is changed forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me To Life

  
**  
Prologue   
**   


The bat had been the last thing he had remembered for a very long time. He had remembered hearing it ‘whoosh’ in the air just before it connected with his left temple. He had remembered the wood’s texture, its heavy grain against his head. He had remembered pain, a pain that hadn’t left him for a moment since that day. It was mostly physical pain for the first months of his convalescence, but it had soon become mental. He had struggled to remember more; he had struggled to remember how someone who he had considered more than a friend was waiting in the garage, on the night of his Prom, and why that person had hit him over the head with a baseball bat. He had failed.

The doctors had told his mother that he just needed time, that as soon as the pieces would connect inside his head, he’d be all right again. But the pieces had never connected, and he had never really healed. The damage was done. And nothing any doctor could say would fix things. His right hand had needed, and would always need, for as long as he’d live, constant exercising and massaging; otherwise he would just found himself with a useless claw radiating unbearable pain.

The physical damage had been nothing compared to the psychological, though. Fear had been his constant companion, his only companion. He had not been able to bear being touched or being surrounded by people – strangers or friends, it wouldn’t make a difference. He had not been able to bear showing his face outside of his house. He had only felt safe when he had been alone.

During the trial, the jury had found his basher guilty, and he had gotten a huge amount of money as a “repayment.” At first he hadn’t wanted to touch those money, but, when he had understood he couldn’t stay at his mother’s house anymore (his father had long since left, not wanting to be touched by the disgrace of a faggot son,) when he had witnessed his sister’s terrified eyes at the end of one of his violent outbursts, he had decided to use the settlement money to buy himself a house, far away from everyone. He had actually only made it as far as West Virginia, his fear overcoming whatever wish for putting distance between himself and his family. He had bought there a “fucking huge mansion,” if his best friend’s words were to be believed. He didn’t care. It was a house, it was isolated, and it was his.

He hadn't furnished all the rooms. It wasn't because he couldn't afford it, he just didn't need or want to. Aside from the kitchen and one bathroom, he’d only furnished two rooms: the living room and another, one with a big window, where the light was perfect during the day and the view was stunning at night. A room where, he hoped, one day he might be inspired to start painting again.

He was only nineteen when he had closed the door of his new house behind his back, never to go back out again. Since then, the only two people he had seen had been his mother – whose visits had become more and more infrequent because she couldn’t bear to witness what her once beautiful son had become – and his best friend Daphne, who came to see him every other day because she simply refused to leave him alone for too long. His therapist had seen him during the first year, too, but after a while he had learned how to exercise his hand by himself, and had told the guy he didn’t need him anymore. Every other contact he now had with the outside world was done by telephone. He didn’t even allow the delivery guy from the pizza place to see his face. Once he had started painting again and had to show and sell his work, he’d sent Daphne to find him an agent. He never met the woman he hired; she received his art by mail and discussed details of his showings with him on the phone.

He lived as a recluse. For the world, he had disappeared.

His name was Justin Taylor, and he once had a bright future waiting for him.

 

  
**  
Chapter 1   
**   


_Wake me up inside_  
(I can't wake up) Wake me up inside  
(Save me) Call my name and save me from the dark  
(Wake me up) Bid my blood to run  
(I can't wake up) Before I come undone  
(Save me) Save me from the nothing I've become

Evanescence, _Bring Me To Life_.

Five years later.

 

Daphne Chanders was standing in front of her best friend’s latest canvas, trying with all her might not to cry. The piece was almost completely black. The only light in it came from a round window painted on the upper left side of the canvas. Illuminated were two objects that lay on the pitch black ground: a baseball bat and a white silk scarf. Justin’s work was always very dark, but he only painted about the bashing after he had a particularly rough night. The fact that this was the latest picture her best friend had painted, told Daphne that the nightmares were back again.

“You’ve been staring at it for ages now, Daph. Are you ever going to say anything? Usually it’s impossible to stop your incessant chattering.”

Taking a deep breath, Daphne plastered a fake smile on her face and turned around to look at Justin. Despte his regular physical exercise, Justin still remained thin, so much that he looked like a kid wearing his dad’s clothes. The grey sweatpants were hanging off his hips like they were two sizes too big, and the tight t-shirt he wore revealed a toned but slim chest.

“What do you expect me to say, Jus?”

Justin looked at her intently, his head inclined, then replied, “You don’t have to like it.”

“Good,” Daphne said. “Because I don’t. I mean, of course it’s a work of art, and I’m almost positive it will sell in a matter of minutes and earn you a fortune, but I don’t like what it means.”

A shadow clouded Justin’s blue eyes at these words, and he turned his back to Daphne. She couldn’t endure adding to his pain, so she walked the few steps that separated her from him, and hugged him from behind. She felt him stiffen in her arms.

“I love you, Jus. You know you can talk with me about it, right?” Daphne’s voice was soft, and she whispered these words with her mouth pressed on Justin’s back.

She felt Justin’s body relax against hers, and she just held him for a while. Daphne got lost in their embrace – it wasn’t a daily occurrence that Justin allowed her to touch him, and that most of all, gave her the idea of how bad the nightmares had to be – and when Justin finally spoke, his voice startled her.

“I can’t talk about it, Daph. I use the only way I know to let it out of my head.” ‘Hoping without hope, that once it’s out there, on a canvas, it won’t go back in anymore,’ Daphne concluded in her own head. ‘If only it worked that way…’

Justin allowed Daphne to hold him for a little while more, but then he shrugged out of her embrace. Turning to face her, Justin let her see the smile on his face. Daphne smiled back, but she found herself wishing she could see the old smile back on her best friend’s face. Justin used to smile with his whole face; his eyes would lit up, his face would shine and his mouth would open in the most beautiful smile Daphne had ever seen. When Justin smiled, the sun smiled with him.

The smile that graced his handsome face now was tight, forced, pained. It was almost as if the muscles on Justin’s face had forgotten how to work to create a real smile. His eyes never lost the guarded, haunted look they always had since that fateful night.

The way he smiled now was one of the reasons why Justin’s mother didn’t come to visit him more often. Jennifer loved her son with all her might, and he always had been the apple of her eye, but nowadays she couldn’t stand seeing the shadow of the boy he once had been. She didn’t know how to face the bitter, lonely, scared man he had become. She hated the new smile. Daphne wished, not for the first time, that there could be something she could do to make the old smile come back. She had tried, time and time again, but nothing seemed to work.

What would it take to give Justin a reason to make the sun join in his smile again?

***

Brian Kinney saved the presentation he’d just finished writing on his laptop before he shut it for the night. He would give everything he had, he thought, to be able to go home, shower and grace Babylon with his presence. Closing his eyes for a moment, Brian relaxed back on his chair and indulged himself imagining every single guy checking him out while he made his way through the dance floor, knowing full well he would have the pick of the hottest men there. A grin blossomed on his lips at the enticing picture.

“Okay, who are you mentally fucking, Boss?”

Disappointed by the interruption, Brian opened his eyes and stared coldly at his accountant, Ted Schmidt. Brian tried to glare at him and scare him away, but all he got for his troubles was a smile.

Sighing, Brian said, “Theodore, why are you still here? Won’t your wifey worry if you don’t show up in time for dinner?”

“You’re very kind to considerate Blake’s feelings, Bri, but I doubt he’ll be home for dinner tonight. A guy in his group needed help.”

“Well, let’s hope counselling is all the counselor is going to do to help that guy, then.” Brian said, tongue in cheek.

“It is. I’m sure of it. Blake loves me, and we’re monogamous, you know?”

“Are you trying to make me gag, Theodore? Whatever disgusting habit you and Mrs. Schmidt have, there’s no reason to flaunt it in the face of love-hating citizens! Fucking is all that matters. Love is a cover straight people use to get laid. And monogamy? Why the hell would you want to give one person ownership to your cock? It really doesn’t make any sense.”

Being absolutely familiar with Brian’s philosophy about life, love and sex, Ted ignored Brian’s words, deciding to change the subject. One could only stomach one Kinney-lesson a day. Or month. Make that year.

“Are you meeting that client tonight, Brian?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, can you believe it? I need to drive to fucking West Virginia to meet that pompous ass before he leaves for Europe. I swear, if this wasn’t a two million dollar account, I would tell Mr. Ferguson to go fuck himself.”

“Something tells me he’d rather have _you_ fuck him, Bri. I saw the way he looked at you the other day.” Ted grinned.

“He has a snowball’s chance in Hell. Did you see him? Guy’s older than fucking Dumbledore.”

The last sentence made Ted laugh, and, only when he managed to calm down enough, he noticed Brian’s puzzled expression. “It’s just that,” he explained, “Even knowing about Gus’ obsession with _Harry Potter_ , it’s so weird to hear you speak about Dumbledore!” Ted barely finished his sentence before succumbing to a new attack of laughter.

To his credit, Brian managed not to blush. “Yeah, well, when you have to sit for hours watching movie after movie, something’s bound to stick. Now, if you think I’ve amused you enough for tonight, you could let me go so I can maybe manage to be home before midnight.”

Brian waited for Ted to sober up completely. After his employee and friend (even if Brian was reluctant to say this words out loud, both men knew it was the truth) had nodded, Brian put on his coat, gloves, and scarf, took his briefcase with the presentation for Mr. Ferguson’s account, and made to leave the office.

“Bri?” Ted’s voice stopped Brian when he was almost outside the door.

“What now?”

“I heard there’s a snow storm coming. Shouldn’t be too harsh, and I bet you can make it home before it even starts, but… drive safely, okay?”

Brian shrugged off Ted’s concern and, with a wave of his hand, left Kinnetik.

***

Daphne had just left, and Justin was alone again. He made himself a sandwich and sat on his sofa. The only light in the room came from a candelabras he had lit and placed on the window sill, and from the TV. The weatherman was saying that a snow storm was coming, and advised everyone to stay in or to be very careful if they had to go out.

Justin loved the snow. Most people were frightened by it, because it could mean isolation and forced seclusion. To Justin the snow was comfort. He used to think that, if it snowed hard enough, the snow would create a fleece thick enough not to allow anyone to even come close to his door.

Yes, the snow for Justin was synonymous with safety.

  
**  
Chapter 2   
**   


The presentation had gone exactly like Brian had planned. Mr. Ferguson had been impressed with everything Brian had to offer – not that the client had any chance to get _everything_ Brian could offer – and now Brian was returning home with a signed contract. Another successful night for Brian Kinney. Of course, Brian thought, it would have been better if he had actually had the chance to achieve a different kind of success that night, too, but for once, money would have to be enough. It was Friday night anyway, and Brian had a whole weekend of fucking ahead of him, if he so wished.

The Corvette proceeded slowly on the streets that were already covered in a dangerous layer of snow, but Brian was in no hurry to get home. No one was expecting him there, anyway, and, despite feeling tired, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep immediately not even if he was already laying on his bed.

He drove slowly for a while, listening to the soft music coming out of the radio, and starting to relax and enjoy the ride despite the weather. He loved driving his car. The ‘Vette had been the first spoil he had given himself when Kinnetik, the agency he had created and brought to success a couple of years before, had started earning him loads of money. He was well aware that his old Jeep might have been the best choice in a night like this, but Brian had wanted to arrive to Mr. Ferguson’s house in style, and he didn’t regret his choice. To Hell with safety; class was much more important. Plus, Brian seldomly resisted the pleasure of driving his most favorite toy – not counting the ones he kept in the chest under his bed, of course.

Rummaging in the pockets of his coat with one of his gloved hands, Brian retrieved a pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth. He was about to light it, when he lost his grip on the lighter – fucking thick gloves – and watched it roll on the car’s floor. Sighing, Brian leaned down to retrieve it, confident in his own ability to keep on the road even if distracted, but, once he triumphantly got back up, lighter firmly in hand, he realized there was a dog in the middle of the road.

“Fuck!” Brian yelled, and turned the steering wheel in order to avoid hitting the dog. Unfortunately, the ‘Vette’s wheels slid on the icy path of the road, and Brian was unable to regain control of his car. After sliding on the street for what seemed like forever, the car hit a lamp post before ending its run bogged down sideways into the snow.

Feeling a bit dizzy, Brian took off one of his gloves and ran his hand through his hair. When he drew back his hand, there was a faint streak of blood on his fingers, so he looked in the rearview mirror to assess the damage. Luckily, all he saw was a scratch, barely bleeding, just above his left eyebrow.

Brian took out his cell phone, ready to call for help, only to realize there was no signal. “It figures I had to have an accident in a God-forsaken place. There’s no one in sight for miles! Even the damn dog is now disappeared. That’s just great.”

Refusing to panic – panic was definitely not in Brian Kinney’s style – Brian decided that he needed to act. He put his glove back on, then forced his car door open, fighting against the snow that surrounded it. Once out, Brian took a good look at his car to see if there was any chance he could free it and drive home. He quickly realized there was a fat chance he would be able to do just that. Sighing, he looked around trying to spot a house, a barn, fucking _something_ that could be habited, but he was not able to see anything.

“Shit. Now, what?” Brian had to admit the situation he was in was kind of desperate. He retrieved his briefcase – because no way he was going to leave the signed contract in the car – and then closed the door of the Corvette. He decided to take a few steps down the road to see if he might have better luck spotting some place with people in it.

He had walked for just a few minutes when he saw it: the faint light of candles coming from what looked like a mansion hidden by a few trees.

“Thank fuck!” Brian realized the house wasn’t that far from where he was standing and that, if he walked fast enough, he could manage to reach it in ten minutes or so. Hunching his shoulders, he started walking in the direction of the light.

***

Justin had been dozing off in front of the TV for a while. He didn’t want to go to bed because he was afraid the nightmare might come back to haunt him again. Daphne had said she was willing to listen, but how could Justin talk about it when all he wanted to do was forget? Putting everything on a canvas was different. His hand painted almost by its own volition, and he didn’t have to dwell on the picture while he was painting it. Or after. He could just let the fear and the pain pour out of him and into the picture. He didn’t have to relive it, either.

Talking about it, which was something all his doctors had told him he absolutely had to do, meant he had to _think_ about it, willingly put himself in front of his most debilitating fears. No way he would ever be able to do that!

Justin sat up straight and sighed. He was tired, his eyes were burning, and there was nothing worth watching on TV. He should really blow out the candles and go to bed, but something was telling him not to do that, to wait, not go to the cot he had in a side of his studio and that he called a bed. Justin learned to trust these feeling; they were often premonitions of sorts, preludes to a massive inspiration. He knew better than to dismiss them.

He rose and went to look outside the window. The snow that had started falling a few hours prior had created a thick layer outside his house. The scenery appeared stunning, if a bit creepy, to Justin’s artistic eye, and he found himself wondering if this was what he should paint. A house, big and empty, isolated by the snow and illuminated only by a dim light… an obvious resemblance of the artist’s own soul.

He kept staring outside, taking in the whole of the house’s surroundings; the trees, branches heavy under the snow; the road, now rendered completely white and soft by the inches of snow covering it; the sky, dark and sprouting constantly little pieces of ice with the shape of a snowflake. Justin closed his eyes and imagined himself being outside and looking in. He pictured in his mind how his house would look, how he himself would look, standing there and observing the world.

 _Always an observer, never part of something._ The thought woke Justin up from the painting he was already creating in his mind, and the man sighed heavily. He had seen what that world could do to someone. He had felt it on his own skin. Observing was safe, observing would not get him killed. Observing would not add to his already permanent damages.

Observing was all he could afford to do. And so he got back to it, he got back to just looking outside of his window. What he saw at that moment, though, terrified him to no end.

There was a man out there. A man was slowly walking towards his house, shoulders hunched, holding a briefcase in his hand, and with one arm hugging himself, in an obvious attempt to instill some warmth in a body that, by now, should be practically frozen. The man’s head was lowered and Justin could not make out his face, but he clearly saw that he was lean, tall and had a strong frame. That alone terrified Justin so much that his knees gave in, making him fall on the floor in front of the window.

Justin breathed heavily, trying to rein in the panic attack he could feel blossoming in his chest. “Maybe he’s not coming here. Maybe he’s going somewhere else. He has no reason to come here, has he? Yes, no reason at all.” Justin kept repeating these words over and over, trying to convince himself there was nothing to fear.

He had almost succeeded, almost decided he was being an idiot and that the man was not going to knock on his door any minute now. Assuming there really was a man out there, Justin thought. What he had seen might have been just a stupid trick of his sleep-deprived mind. Yes, of course it had to be that way!

Justin let out a shaking laugh and rose from the floor. There was no one out there. No one would come disturb him. No one could hurt him. He was safe.

That was the moment when he heard the knock.

  
**  
Chapter 3   
**   


The walk to the house proved to be more difficult than Brian had anticipated. The snow kept falling on his head, and he was freezing. Plus, it was impossible to walk too fast because the ground was literally covered in a white mantle that, by then, enveloped Brian’s legs almost up to his knees.

Finally, Brian realized he was in front of the house's front door. Shivering, he raised his gloved hand and knocked.

***

“No..”

The word was only a whisper out of Justin’s lips. Every instinct was telling him to hide somewhere, pretend he was not at home, pretend he hadn’t heard the knock. But he knew he couldn’t. There was a snow storm, and he could not leave someone outside in the cold.

Of course, he could not let him in, either. A stranger in his house? A tall, strong man in his sanctuary? Justin’s eyes opened wide at the thought, and he shook his head, terrified.

What should he do?

***

What the fuck was taking so long for the people in the house to open the door? Were they deaf?

Brian knocked again, harder this time, and decided to throw in a “Hey! Is anyone home?” too.

‘Come on,’ he thought, ‘hurry the fuck up before I freeze to death in the middle of nowhere.’

***

Justin walked towards the front door, his steps soft and slow. He still hadn’t decided what he was going to do, but he knew he could not ignore a cry for help. And the man’s voice, albeit irritated, had clearly retained a note of exhaustion and worry.

“Ye…yes? Who is it?” Justin marvelled to hear the sound of his own voice. Had he really replied to the man? Had he really made his presence in the house known?

Fear held him in a strong grip, and he breathed heavily.

***

 _Who is it?_ Did the guy think this was a courtesy visit? What the fuck?

“Hey, can you open the door, please?” ‘Count yourself lucky I said _please_ ,’ Brian thought. What the fuck was wrong with people nowadays? Didn’t the guy see it was fucking _snowing_?

***

Open the door? Justin shook his head no without even realizing.

“I… I… who are you?”

God, I can’t do this, Justin thought. Please don’t let me do this…

***

That’s it, Brian decided, he was going to die out here with his feet blue and his cock turned into a popsicle, and it would be this guy’s fault!

“Listen, can you just open the door and let me in? It’s fucking freezing out here, and I promise I will tell you the story of my life once I’ve warmed up, ok?”

“Let you in? I… no, but… who are you? What do you want?”

“What do I want? To get away from the snow, to warm up, to make a phone call. Fuck, take your fucking pick! What the fuck do you think I want?”

“You’re swearing… you’re angry… I…”

“Are you, like, a mental patient or something? I’m freezing my ass out in the snow and you want to chit-chat now! What the hell do you expect?”

“But why are you here?”

“Oh, goddamnit! I had an accident, my fucking car is buried somewhere in the snow and my cell phone has no signal. What did you think I came here for? Because I wanted to take a walk in the snow?”

“An accident? Are you hurt?”

‘Do you care?’ was Brian’s first thought, but he decided to stop yelling and try sweet talking. He was actually hurt, well a bit at least, so he could milk _that_ and hope the psycho on the other side of the door would take pity on him.

“Yeah, I hit my head. It bled a little, too. I don’t think it’s anything serious but… well, I’m feeling a bit dizzy.” Not to mention frozen.

***

He was hurt? He bled? _From his head_? Justin could not leave the man out there knowing that. It was simply impossible.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the keys in the lock and the door opened.

As soon as the door opened a bit, Brian’s first instinct was to shove it completely open and run inside. Something stopped him, though. Maybe the fear that this guy could be faster and slam the door shut in his face, not to open it anymore.

So he waited. What he saw when the door finally opened took him by surprise and made him forget the cold for a moment.

***

The man was stunning. Justin’s artistic eye couldn’t help but be aesthetically pleased by the man’s features. He had intense hazel eyes, dark hair, and a mouth created to give pleasure.

His thoughts made him blush, and Justin tried to take his eyes off the man’s face. He soon found out he couldn’t.

***

Well, hello there. The guy was a surprise. And a hot one. Blond hair, blue eyes, slim frame. Not bad at all. ‘Maybe,’ Brian thought, ‘I’ll be able to warm up sooner than I had imagined. And in a more pleasant way than taking a hot shower alone.’

“Hi,” he said to the guy with a smile. “Thank you for opening the door.”

And then he took the first step inside the house.

***

The man’s words startled Justin and made him realize he was about to come in. He was already moving. He was coming towards Justin.

“No… I…”

The man was towering over him and Justin couldn’t bear it. He ran. He just turned around and ran towards his studio. Once there, he barricaded himself in, leaning against the door and taking shallow breaths.

***

“What the fuck?” Brian said out loud, a puzzled expression on his face. “Where did he go, now?”

Shit, what if this guy was really a psychopath? What the hell was he about to get himself into?

“Right, I don’t give a fuck. Better be murdered in this house where it’s warm than find my death out there in the cold.”

Decision made, Brian closed the door behind his back and made his way towards the room faintly illuminated by the candles that had guided him here.

“Let’s hope crazy-o has a fireplace, at least.”

  
**  
Chapter 4   
**   


Justin was sitting on the floor in his studio with his back against the closed door, his knees drawn up to his chest, and his face hidden between them. He was trying with all his might not to panic. He wasn’t having much success.

“There’s a man in my house,” Justin kept repeating over and over again. “A stranger. He’s in my house. _In my house_.”

Justin was conscious that sitting on the floor didn’t help with the situation, and there was a nagging voice in his head that kept yelling at him to get up and do something. Even if that something meant throwing the man back into the snow! That voice sounded weirdly like Daphne…

Even knowing that sooner or later he’d have to confront the man, Justin chose to sit on the floor a while longer. Maybe the problem would resolve itself without Justin having to move a muscle.

***

‘Oh good, _Norman Bates’_ house is warm at least, if a bit creepy,’ Brian thought when he entered the living room. There was indeed a fireplace, and the room looked comfortable and furnished tastefully.

He dropped the briefcase near the sofa and then, after removing his coat, gloves, shoes, and socks, Brian made a beeline towards the fireplace and sat there massaging his feet and trying to reactivate the circulation. Brian’s clothes were soaked and he knew he had to take them off, but his frozen feet had the priority. Luckily, he had a clean shirt in his briefcase, but he’d have to do without his trousers until they’d dried.

Sitting in front of the fire, Brian thought that sooner or later he’d had to go look for the hot-but-crazy guy who clearly had starred in his own version of _Psycho_. For now though, he concentrated on getting warm.

***

How much time had passed since that man had invaded his house? Justin knew he wasn’t being fair. The man had survived an accident and a walk in the snow. He had been hurt,

_(blood… a lot of blood… deep red on a white scarf…_

_“Hurry up! We’re gonna lose him!”_

_“Oh my God! So much blood!”_

_Pain… blood… my head… my head hurts… my…_ )

The man had hit his head and bled. Justin couldn’t shake that picture off his mind.

It was obvious that the man deserved a warm place and a nursing hand. Justin only wished that place and that hand didn’t have to be _his_.

His ears focused on every tiny sound that came from outside the door of his studio. _“Get up! Just go and do something!”_ Justin battled with the internal voice that became more insistent every minute, and waited.

***

“Right,” Brian said. “Now that I made sure my feet aren’t about to fall off, I better get rid of these clothes.”

Slowly but surely, Brian undressed himself and placed his clothes on a chair in front of the fire. Then, with only his boxers on, and hoping his host wouldn’t choose _that_ moment to come out of his hiding place, he made his way towards the sofa, retrieved the shirt from the briefcase, and put it on. Noticing a blanket on the sofa, Brian decided to tie that around his hips – for warmth, yes, but also because he wasn’t sure Psycho-boy would appreciate the view.

It was time, Brian couldn’t delay the confrontation anymore. He had to go and try to talk with the owner of the house to ask him if he could use his phone and call for help. He didn’t want to make himself at home when he, clearly, wasn’t welcome.

Sighing, he made his way towards the room he had seen the boy barricade himself in before.

***

The knock made Justin jump out of his skin, and the trembling he had managed to master started again.

“Uh… excuse me, there. Are you okay?” The man’s voice was strong and had a sarcastic inflection that made Justin want to scream. In fear or frustration, Justin couldn’t decide.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, you know, but would you mind if I used your phone? Maybe I can get someone to come and take me home.”

Of course! Justin had never wanted to hug someone so much like he did in that moment. The man would call for help! People would come get him, and he’d be out of Justin’s house without Justin having to leave his studio!

“Yes, of course,” Justin replied, his voice sounding pathetically grateful to his own ears, too. “Call whoever you need.” And go away as soon as you can, please.

“Great, thanks.”

Justin heard the man’s steps going back in the living room, and breathed more easily. This ordeal would be over soon. Maybe now he could relax…

***

“Motherfucking piece of shit!” Brian yelled when he could only hear silence on the other end of the phone.

He was stuck – stuck in a goddamn freaky place with a mental patient! And now he had to go back and tell him that they were stuck together until the snow storm passed. That should be fun.

Sighing, Brian walked back to the other room and knocked again.

“Ye… yes?” came the whispered reply.

“Your phone’s dead.” Okay, so maybe Brian could have broken the news a bit more gently, but he was tired and exasperated, and he didn’t have it in him to babysit the psycho.

He regretted his decision a moment later when a strangled sound came from the door.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Brian asked, but the guy didn’t reply. “Listen, I’m not happy about the situation either, but it seems we’re stuck together. The least we can do is try to be civil with one another, don’t you think? I promise I won’t bite.”

Only silence met his words. Well, not exactly silence. There was some kind of wheezing sound coming from the guy, a sound that, Brian had to admit, was making his skin crawl. What the fuck was wrong with this kid?

“Hey, talk to me, okay? You’re freaking me out.” Nothing. Just the sound again. Shit! “Right, I’ll start. My name is Brian Kinney, and I own an advertising agency in Pittsburgh. A client is the reason why I was in West Virginia tonight. Can you believe it? This old geezer is about to leave for Europe and so _I_ had to go to his house for the pitch. Unbelievable, uh? Hey, you still there?”

Fucking hell, he was talking to himself, Brian thought rolling his eyes. “At least tell me you’re still alive. Should I say ‘please’?”

***

The man… Brian… had a nice voice. Justin’s mind was clearly trying to find something, _anything_ , to focus on so that it could avoid thinking about the fact that the stranger wasn’t going anywhere. At least not for the time being.

He was talking, and he wanted Justin to reply. Was Justin able to reply?

“At least tell me you’re still alive. Should I say please?” Brian said, and Justin found himself smiling despite himself.

‘Yes, say please,’ the Justin he once was would have replied. Now, the only thing he could manage was, “I… yes, I’m… here.”

“Great!” Brian said. “Should we start with the basics? What’s your name?”

“Ju… Justin.” If only he would be able to stop stuttering!

“Hi, Justin. Nice to meet you. Should I shake the handle of the door pretending it’s your hand, now?”

The man was funny. He had started talking since a couple of minutes and already he had made Justin smile twice. “I…I’d rather there was no handshaking.”

“Oh-kay. Hands off. Got it. Will you ever come out of there, though?”

Coming out? Leaving the safe nest and face the man? Was he crazy? Justin was about to yell, “No!” when Brian spoke again.

“I might need your help with this wound, you know? Alcohol, a patch. Anything. It’s stopped bleeding, but I think it needs some disinfectant.”

Right. He was hurt. He needed help. How could Justin deny him?

***

To be completely honest, Brian didn’t give a fuck about disinfecting the scratch on his forehead. It was nothing serious, and it had shed just a few drops of blood to begin with. But he remembered having convinced Justin to open a door once by mentioning it, so maybe that was the key to getting the same result now, too.

As it turned out, he was right. Score one for Kinney.

The door slowly opened and two terrified blue eyes stared up at him. This was one hell of a hot kid. Pity he had a no touching rule. Brian asked himself how much time would he have to waste before convincing Justin to drop it. Oh, well, time wasn’t something he lacked, was it?

“Hey. Good to see you again.” Brian said, smiling.

Justin only looked at him. His whole body was still hidden behind the door, and it didn’t look like he had any intention of going out.

“Right, can you point me in the direction of a place where I can find something to use on my wound?” Brian thought he’d soon have to quit using the word ‘wound’. All it would take for the boy to realize he wasn’t really hurt, was a close look at his face. But, clearly, that word worked like some kind of weird charm on Justin, because he finally opened the door completely and Justin spoke.

“There’s a… cabinet in the bathroom. You can find everything in there.”

“Thank you. And where is the bathroom, exactly?”

Justin pointed to a door across the hall, and Brian nodded his thanks before heading there.

‘Let’s hope I won’t have to do all this again once I come out of the bathroom,’ Brian thought, closing the door behind his back.

***

Now what? Justin had no idea how to behave. Should he wait for Brian to come out of the bathroom and make sure he was all right? Or should he give in to his instinct and get back inside the studio?

The mere fact that he was hesitating, that he was contemplating the possibility of staying out there and waiting to face Brian instead of hiding like his mind suggested came as a huge surprise for Justin.

Why did this man have so much power over him?

  
**  
Chapter 5   
**   


Brian applied a patch on his scratch as quickly as he could, more for show that for real need, then exited the room. He was almost expecting to find a deserted hall and a door tightly shut, but instead he found Justin waiting for him. The boy seemed deep in thought, so Brian approached him very carefully like it’s done with a scared animal, as not to startle him.

“All fixed, thank you,” Brian said softly.

Soon, Brian realized that all his care was for naught because Justin jumped a mile high when he heard Brian’s voice.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You’re a bit on the nervous side, aren’t you?” Brian joked.

Justin didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile. ‘Great, now I’ll have to deal with another queen out.’ Brian thought, managing, God knows how, not to roll his eyes.

While he was trying to think of something to say to avoid having to watch Justin run away again, Brian realized the kid’s attention had shifted, and he was now watching the blanket around Brian’s hips. Uh oh.

“Yeah, right, my pants were soaking wet, and freezing. I had to take them off. They’re drying on a chair in front of the fire.” Brian’s words came out quickly and his speech was fragmented while he tried to explain the situation to Justin. “My shirt was in about the same condition, too, but I had another one in my briefcase. Didn’t have pants, though, so I thought to use your blanket. Hope you don’t mind?” The last bit was said with a questioning tone, leaving the ball in Justin’s court.

Justin’s eyes fixed again on Brian’s face. They were large and scared, and fuck they made Brian want to hold him. Where the hell had that thought come from?

“Are… are you nak.. naked?”

“No, I have a blanket, see?” Brian tried to make light of the situation again, hoping to have the kid see the fun side of everything so that he’d stop looking at him like that and making Brian have fucked up thoughts.

Justin rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his fucking eyes! That was progress in Brian’s book. Then Justin continued, “Yeah, but under the blanket. Are you naked?”

“Well, I usually wear underwear so no, I’m not naked. Would you rather I was? Because that could be arranged.” Brian had been patient until then, but no one could expect him to refrain from doing what he did best: flirting. Well, aside from fucking and creating genius ads.

Justin shook his head violently, and took a step back, away from Brian and towards the studio.

“Hey, hey, don’t run! It was just a joke. Shit, try not to take everything so seriously, would you?"

Justin kept walking backwards, and Brian decided he needed to act immediately or all would be lost.

“Look, I didn’t mean to scare you, okay? I was just trying to make fun of a situation that’s everything but funny. For both of us. I know I’m invading your house, but it was that or catching my death out there. Can we forget what I said and start over? Hi, I’m Brian. I’m wearing your blanket because my clothes are wet, and I’m about to drop dead from exhaustion. How are you?” Brian grinned.

Justin stopped, looking at Brian like he couldn’t believe he was making him reconsider his retreating plan, then smiled. It was a tentative smile, mind you, but still a smile. “It’s okay,” Justin said. “I know it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault, actually. It’s just…” Justin shook his head and refused to say more.

“Just what?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Look, I don’t have a guest room. You said you’re tired, but you’ll have to sleep on the sofa, okay?”

“Works for me. But how can you not have a guest room? This fucking house is huge!” Brian asked, surprised.

Justin had no intention of explaining anything to a total stranger, though, so he simply answered, “I just don’t, okay? It’s the living room’s sofa, or the floor.”

‘My, my, the boy is a tiger when he wants to be,’ Brian thought, amused. He contemplated asking the boy why he couldn’t share his bed, but decided against it. For now. “By all means, the sofa is perfect. Can I at least have a pillow? I already have the blanket,” he finished, winking.

Justin smiled again, and went to fetch a pillow for Brian. When he got back, he passed the pillow to Brian, making sure their fingers couldn’t come even remotely close.

“Thanks. Good night, then. See you in the morning.” Brian said.

Those words caused Justin’s eyes to widen once again, and, like Brian had been expecting all night, the kid ran and hid once again in his room.

“What the fuck did I say, now?” Brian mused, talking to himself.

Sighing, he made his way towards the living room, and after blowing out the candles, lay on the sofa and fell asleep within minutes.

***

_Steps. Someone was following him. But it was dark and he couldn’t see. His heart was beating fast and his breathing was laboured. Fear._

_Sound. A terrifying sound behind his back. A laugh. A voice. Words. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand what was said. Panic._

_Fall. Something connected with his head and he fell. A car. His eyes fixed on the wheels, his mind trying to understand what had happened. Terror._

_Blood. Everything was red. Nothing was white anymore. It had been white, where was the white now? Darkness._

_Him. “It’s your fault, Taylor, you deserve to die.”_

_Scream._

“Nooooooo! Please… please… no.” Justin’s own scream woke him up, and he sat up straight on his bed. His eyes tried in vain to focus on something but, despite the fact that he always slept with a light on, Justin was not able to see. Everything was blurred.

And then he heard it.

***

What the fuck? Brian was abruptly cut off from his sleep by a terrified yell. Who was it? What the hell was happening?

It took a moment for Brian to remember where he was, but when he did, he realized the scream had come from Justin. Without wasting a moment, Brian ran to the kid’s room and tried the door without knocking. It was open.

He entered, and in the faint light that illuminated the room, he was immediately able to see Justin sitting up on his bed. It looked like the lad was having troubles breathing and his head kept turning left and right, almost as if he was trying to find something.

“Justin? Hey, are you okay?”

Justin seemed to freeze at Brian’s voice, and that wheezing sound was back out of his throat. Without thinking, Brian just acted.

He ran towards Justin’s bed, sat on it, and took the boy into his arms.

***

Warm. So warm. Suddenly, Justin found himself enveloped in warmth. Something strong was holding him, and he felt safe. His mind refused to examine what that something could be, and Justin allowed the warmth to seep into his limbs.

Then the voice came back. Soothing, yes, but still alien. “You’re okay, you’re okay, it was a dream.” The voice said. Who did it belong to? It wasn’t Daphne’s and it wasn’t his mother’s. It was a man’s voice. A _man’s_ voice.

Justin’s arms that had until then been hugging his own body shot out to press the man’s chest. Justin pushed the man away with all his strength and found himself free. Cold. But free.

“Shit! What the fuck is wrong with you?” The man’s voice was angry now. Justin’s terrified stare searched for him and fixed on his face. The man was lying on the floor, obviously having fallen there after Justin had pushed him. And he looked pissed off.

Justin knew that face. “Br… Brian? What are you doing here?”

“Playing good Samaritan and landing on my ass. What do you think I’m doing? You had a nightmare, your screams woke me up, and I came to see if you were okay. Shouldn’t have bothered.” Brian rose from the floor and stood there, towering over Justin’s bed and making Justin cower away from him.

“What is wrong with you?” Brian asked.

“What isn’t…” came Justin’s whispered reply, and the boy turned around to face the wall.

The confession startled Brian and made him want to ask Justin to explain further, but he knew this wasn’t the time. So he simply said, “I’m not going to hurt you, Justin. I won’t touch you anymore, I promise. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Brian’s words didn’t seem to have any effect on Justin. Sighing, Brian turned around and made his way towards the door.

He had just closed it behind his back when he heard it: “Everything hurts me,” Justin was saying to the empty room, “and it’s my fault.”

  
**  
Chapter 6   
**   


Morning came too soon for Brian’s tastes, and he let out a groan while stretching his sore back. He sat up on the sofa, massaging the stiffness out of his neck, then rose and went to look out of the window. The snow was still falling. The storm had clearly continued for the whole night. The white mantle covered basically every inch of the ground now.

Sighing, Brian decided to try the telephone again. There was no way the connection could have been restored during the night, but he couldn’t avoid hoping. The dead silence of the phone killed his faint hope in a moment. “Fucking great,” Brian said to the empty room.

Not one to wallow in self pity, Brian made his way to the chair he had placed in front of the fireplace the past night, and retrieved his clothes. The fabric was stiff and wrinkled, and Brian grimaced in distaste. At least his shirt and pants were dry, and he wouldn’t have to go around the house half naked again. “Small victories. That’s all I can hope for these days.”

Still wearing his shirt and the blanket, Brian took his now dried clothes, exited the living room and, after checking to see if Justin’s door was still closed (surprise, surprise, it was,) he made his way to the bathroom. Brian hated not having clean underwear or clothes to wear, but there was no way in hell he would give up the pleasure of a hot shower.

The bathroom’s door wasn’t locked. Brian had no idea how many times he would repeat those words in the near future. The door wasn’t locked. Brian entered the bathroom unprepared for what he was about to see.

The glass of the shower stall was covered in tiny pearls of water, and the vapor created by the hot cascade enveloped the body inside. Justin. The boy had his back turned to the door, which gave Brian a great view of his lean back and perfect, round ass. Suds ran between Justin’s open legs and, following its trail, Brian caught a glimpse of the kid’s cock. ‘Not bad,’ Brian commented to himself.

Brian’s body reacted to the show it was offered, and he found himself unable to look away. He stood there, his cock rock hard, and followed Justin’s hands’ journey on the boy’s body, admiring the white skin and the toned muscles. Fuck, this kid was hot!

He had no idea how much time he’d spent frozen there, admiring Justin washing himself, but Brian knew he wouldn’t have been able to look away if his reverie hadn’t been interrupted by a very loud yelp.

“Oh God! What are you doing?!” Justin’s voice was full of panic, but Brian was also able to read something else in it – anger, maybe, but not only. Unfortunately he didn’t have time to explore his impression further because suddenly Justin’s body disappeared from view.

Justin had crouched defensively on the shower floor.

“Shit! I’m sorry, Justin. I needed the bathroom and the door wasn’t locked. I had no idea you were in here. The door wasn’t locked!” Brian waited for Justin to reply, but the boy wouldn’t even look at him. “I’ll just go, okay?” Brian said after a while, and left the room.

***

‘Why was he watching me?’ Justin asked himself. ‘He said he didn’t know I was in here, but when he saw me there, why didn’t he leave?’

Justin had no idea why someone would want to watch him naked. What was there to watch? He was… nothing. Damaged goods. What in him could appeal to a man like Brian? Justin had understood Brian was gay, too, when the man had joked about the possibility of getting naked for Justin, but the thought that someone like Brian could even look twice at someone like him, had been too ludicrous for Justin to consider. Yet, Brian had stood there, for God knew how long, and watched his naked body.

The thought scared him, of course, but Justin couldn’t deny a certain amount of curiosity, too. And something else. Something he didn’t even want to think about. Something that was brought to life by the way Justin’s cock had reacted to the sight of Brian’s eyes fixed on him. Shaking those thoughts away, Justin rose on trembling legs and quickly finished washing himself.

Once he had dried himself and put up the clothes he had thankfully brought into the bathroom with him that morning, Justin stood there trying to decide if he wanted to leave the room and face Brian or stay put and avoid further confrontation. He had to admit, the second option had a certain appeal.

But a gentle knock on the door ruined all his plans. “Justin? I don’t want to bother you, but I really need the bathroom now. Unless you have another bathroom I could use… Would you mind coming out of there?”

For the first time since he had bought the house, Justin wished he had furnished other rooms. He would give everything he had to be able to tell Brian to use the bathroom upstairs. Unfortunately there wasn’t a bathroom upstairs. Well, not a one with a functioning shower or bathtub at least.

Taking a deep breath, Justin opened the door. Brian was just outside, but he had taken a few steps back as not to crowd Justin. ‘He probably wants to avoid me running back in and blocking him from using the bathroom,’ Justin thought. Still, he had to admit that it was a thoughtful gesture.

Brian was looking at him, but Justin couldn’t raise his head to meet his eyes. He heard Brian’s sigh and then his words, “Look, I really had no idea you were in there. I wouldn’t have gone in had I known but, like I told you, the door wasn’t locked. Can we just… forget the whole thing?”

Justin simply nodded, even if the nagging voice that had taken residency in his head the night before kept yelling at him to speak, to ask Brian what had made him stay in the bathroom after he’d seen Justin. If it was true that the door hadn’t been locked, it was also true that Brian could have left the room as soon as he’d discovered it was already occupied.

Realizing Justin wasn’t going to say anything, Brian continued, “Listen, at this point I really need to use the bathroom. Can you avoid locking yourself up again while I’m in there? I think we should talk about this. Okay?”

Justin’s eyes, huge and scared, fixed themselves on Brian’s, but his mouth still refused to let out the words.

“Right. Got it. Have it your way.” Brian said before entering the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

***

“Fucking kid, you might be hot but there’s no way I’ll beg for your charming company. Go lock yourself away. See if I care.” Mumbling all this, Brian took off his clothes and placed himself under the shower.

He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure at the feeling of the hot water caressing his limbs. His cock was still half hard after the encounter with Justin, and Brian knew there was little to no chance that something other than his hand would see to the job, at least until he left Justin’s house.

Lathering up his hand, Brian took hold of his cock and expertly started to stroke it. He kept his eyes closed and, despite the annoyance he was still feeling, he thought about Justin’s body. His toned chest, his strong, lean legs, his blond hair and blue eyes. His perfect ass… his cock that Brian had been able to see clearly when the boy had turned around. Groaning, Brian didn’t even pretend to want the handjob to last any longer, and allowed the orgasm to hit him, his whole body shivering.

After finishing his shower, Brian dried and dressed himself, deciding not to put his underwear on again. Perhaps going commando wasn’t the best idea, all things considered, but putting on the same underwear he’d already worn was even less appealing. Folding the blanket and the discarded clothes, Brian left the bathroom. The hall was empty and the door of Justin’s room tightly closed. ‘Figures. I bet this time he even remembered to lock that one,’ Brian mused.

He returned to the living room and left his clothes there, then decided to go look for the kitchen and make himself some coffee. The room across the hall, near the bathroom, was his first stop, and Brian found himself in a huge kitchen, perfectly furnished and full of light. The smell of coffee hit Brian’s nostrils as soon as he entered and, to his surprise, the room wasn’t empty as he’d first thought. Justin was standing in front of the window, a mug in his hands, and his back to Brian.

‘Well, isn’t that interesting?’ Brian thought, before clearing his throat as to make his presence known without scaring his host.

Justin turned around immediately and, obviously surprising himself as well as Brian, spoke first. “I… I made some coffee,” he said pointing to the coffee pot. “I can make you some breakfast, too, if you’re hungry…”

“Coffee’s fine,” Brian answered, and went to fill the mug placed beside the pot. “Ah, this is good,” he commented after the first sip. “Just what I needed.”

Brian’s comment made Justin blush. “Th… Thank you. Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Well, since you’re offering, maybe toast.”

Justin looked almost pathetically grateful to have something to do – something that didn’t involve looking at Brian for too prolonged a time. Shaking his head, a grin on his face, Brian sat at the table and sipped his coffee while watching Justin move around the kitchen. The kid wore a pair of black fatigues and a beige, worn-looking sweater. His hair was still wet from the shower, and his hands moved expertly on the kitchen counter. ‘Really not a bad view to enjoy first thing in the morning,’ was the thought that sparked in Brian’s mind, and he grimaced. ‘What the fuck is wrong with me? Maybe I hit my head a lot harder than I imagined last night. There’s no other explanation.’

“Here’s your toast,” Justin’s voice forced Brian out of his thoughts, and he looked at Justin, who was asking if he wanted marmalade on his toast. Brian shook his head, and ate the buttered bread in silence.

Justin stood there, apparently unable to think of something to say or do, and Brian realized that, if he wanted to hold a conversation with this strange kid, he would have to be the one to initiate it.

“Aren’t you eating anything?” Brian asked.

“I… already ate. Yogurt and fruit, as usual.”

“Oh, healthy. And here I thought youngsters were all about bacon and fried eggs!” Brian commented tongue in cheek.

Justin looked puzzled, almost as if he had no idea whether Brian was being playful or insulting – Brian always was a bit of both, to be fair.

Brian sighed, “Right, no joking with you, I forgot. So, you have me at a disadvantage here. You know my name and what I do for a living. Why don’t you return the favor now?”

“I… you… you know my name,” Justin answered, taking a step back.

“Okay, listen, let’s make something very clear here. I am not going to jump you, or hit on you, or hurt you. Frankly, I find this attitude of yours kind of insulting. You don’t need to distance yourself from me every time I ask you something. If you don’t want to answer, just fucking say so! I swear you won’t hurt my widdle feelings. But stop with this running away bullshit. Who the hell do you think I am?” Brian hadn’t meant to come across so aggressive and – fuck - _hurt_ as he’d sounded just then, but it was too late to correct it. Justin had heard the inflection in his tone. This seemed to be the only thing that had stopped him from barricading himself in his room once more. As it was, Justin simply looked at him, wide blue eyes and trembling lips, and shook his head.

Then he spoke. “I don’t do it on purpose. I don’t do it because of something you said or did. It’s something I can’t avoid.”

“Why?” Brian answered, his head tilted to one side in genuine curiosity.

“I… don’t… can’t talk about it. Please.” Saying this, Justin dropped his head and hugged himself tight.

Understanding something serious was behind Justin’s behaviour, something that clearly still hurt and debilitated the boy, Brian decided to drop the subject and try to approach Justin in a different way. His curiosity had been piqued, but Brian knew that forcing an answer out of Justin now would leave him empty handed.

“Then don’t talk about it. Answer my first question instead: what’s your name, your _full_ name, and what do you do for a living?”

Justin’s head rose, and he stared at Brian. The fact that the man had not insisted to know more had clearly surprised him, so much that he decided to answer Brian’s question. “Justin Taylor. And I paint.”

“Taylor?” Brian said, his brow furrowed. “I think I know your name from somewhere. Where did I read it?”

Justin paled.

  
**  
Chapter 7   
**   


“Of course! Now I remember. My friend Lindsay, she works at the Sidney Bloom’s Gallery in Pittsburgh, and they had a showing of your paintings not too long ago. I remember because she kept repeating how great your work was, how ‘emotional and haunting,’ to use her words.” Brian concluded, before realizing Justin looked like he was about to faint. “Hey, you okay? What did I do, now?”

“Noth… nothing. I just… no, it’s nothing. So your friend works in a gallery…” Justin stuttered, visibly struggling to regain control.

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it? What did you think I was about to say?”

“Nothing! I told you. I… how could I know what you were about to say?” Justin finished, a forced smile on his lips.

‘Yeah, right. I must remember to ask Theodore to look for the kid’s name in the paper.’ Brian thought, before saying out loud, “You couldn’t, of course you couldn’t. Lindsay invited me to the showing, but I couldn’t make it. Why don’t you give me a private showing? Let me see this _haunting_ art of yours. What do you say?”

Justin contemplated Brian’s idea for a while, trying to decide if it was safe to invite Brian into his studio. The man had already been there, uninvited, the night before, so it was nothing really new for him. “Okay,” he replied in the end. “I have a few paintings in my studio that I haven’t sent out to my agent yet. I could show you those, if you want.”

“Oh, I want,” Brian smiled, raising from the table and following Justin to his studio. Once there, Brian took a good look around and was surprised at how minimalist this room was. The part of Justin’s house he had seen until then was all furnished tastefully, but this room, the one where Justin obviously spent a great part of his day, was bare. All Brian could see was Justin’s bed – a cot, really – pushed against the farthest wall, and a painting on an easel. There was a table, too, full of paints, and a series of canvasses propped against the wall.

A large window dominated the room, offering a clear and breathtaking view of Justin’s grounds. Brian came to the conclusion that that had been Justin’s intention all along. This was the place where he created his art, the place where he let his imagination soar. It didn’t need furnishing, it didn’t need anything more than the view offered by the window. Once more Brian marvelled at Justin’s taste. He really liked the way Justin thought.

Justin was standing in front of his latest canvas and Brian made his way towards him. The picture was a work of art. Brian wasn’t sure he understood the meaning of the round window illuminating a scarf and a baseball bat, but he could clearly feel the fear and the pain portrayed in the painting. Justin’s art was dark, and it inspired emotions even if it wasn’t easily understood.

Brian felt Justin’s gaze on him, so he turned to look at him and said, “Lindsay was right. Haunting is the right word for it. You’re not bad, Justin.”

A shy smile blossomed on Justin’s lips, and he thanked Brian. “Would you like to see something else?” Justin asked then.

“Yes, I most definitely would.”

***

They spent the whole morning in Justin’s studio, talking about his art. This made Justin feel more at ease with Brian. He smiled a lot during their conversation, and Justin had to admit that a big part of his fear had vanished. Brian’s company was entertaining and challenging. The man had great taste and it was interesting to hear all his insight on Justin’s art. At one point, Brian even asked for a pen and a paper to write down an idea for an ad inspired by Justin’s comments.

Justin had been very pleased when Brian had asked him to sketch something for the ad. “If you don’t mind doing it for free,” Brian had said, “I doubt I could afford paying an artiste of your calibre!” Now attuned to Brian’s sarcasm, Justin let out a soft laugh and started to work on the sketch, following Brian’s directions.

Unfortunately, his hand had other ideas. Soon Justin let out a cry of pain and dropped the pencil.

“Shit!” Justin gripped his left hand in his right, trying to massage the pain away. He had forgotten to exercise it that morning, distracted by Brian’s presence, and now he was paying the consequences.

“What the hell! Here, let me help,” Brian said, taking Justin’s hand gently between his own. He started massaging his fingers, one by one, helping them relax and easing their pain. Justin’s eyes were closed and he was trying to breathe through the ordeal. Brian knew that the only reason why he was allowed to hold Justin’s hand was that the boy was too lost in his suffering to realize he was letting Brian touch him. He had no doubts that, once Justin started feeling better, he’d realize what was happening and retract his hand. For the moment, though, Brian did what he could to help the boy.

After a while, Brian could feel Justin’s fingers flex in his grip. He realized the boy was now able to move them. Justin’s eyes opened, and they fixed on his hand being gently held by Brian. “What… how… why are you… doing this?” He asked.

“I’m just trying to help. It’s my fault if you got hurt, after all. How are you feeling?”

“Not… not your fault. Not yours.” Justin stuttered.

“Yes, it is. I shouldn’t have asked you to sketch.” Brian said all that even knowing it couldn’t have been his fault if Justin’s hand had cramped up. After all, the kid hadn’t sketched for more than five minutes, and he was an artist, for fuck’s sake! He should be used working with his hands for longer than that. Brian was still contemplating that thought when Justin yelled, “No, it wasn’t you!”

His outburst surprised Brian since he hadn’t thought the kid would want to take the blame off him so much.

Justin breathed deeply and, when he was calmer, continued. “No, it wasn’t you. I had an… accident. My hand needs constant exercising now, or… well, you’ve seen what happens. Today, I forgot because… so, you see, it’s my fault. Always is.” Justin concluded. Then, realizing he had allowed Brian to hold his hand until that moment, he withdrew it and hugged it close to his own chest.

‘Ah, so that’s it,’ Brian thought. The kid didn’t want to make sure Brian didn’t place the blame on himself. He wanted to make sure Brian understood it was _Justin’s_ fault. Right. “You know, you should really stop putting yourself down like this. It’s not your fault if you forgot. Shit happens. Besides, I bet the _accident_ was not your fault, either. So, quit blaming yourself for everything, would you?”

Justin looked at Brian, a surprised expression on his face. “How do you…” He started but then abruptly shut his mouth.

“How do I what?”

“Nothing, I… thank you. For what you said. About the blame. I… Thank you.” Justin managed a smile. He was relieved to see Brian smile back.

“Okay. It’s lunchtime now. What do you say we go to the kitchen and I repay the favor you did me with breakfast and the sketch, and make you lunch? I’m good with omelettes.” Brian suggested.

“I didn’t… You only ate toast, and I didn’t even finish the sketch.” Justin replied.

“The toast and the coffee were good, and I bet you’re going to finish that,” Brian said pointing to the drawing, “in the afternoon. I know you will. So, omelette?”

“Omelette.” Justin answered, and followed Brian to the kitchen.

After lunch, they went back to Justin’s studio, and Justin finished drawing the artwork for Brian’s campaign. He took things extremely easy, and Brian made sure Justin stopped every now and then, pretending he wanted Justin to look at him while he explained his idea. Justin felt warm and protected, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He enjoyed Brian’s presence in his house; he enjoyed hearing the man talk about his work. One could really understand how important work was for Brian looking at his face while he spoke about it. Plus, the man had a wonderful mind, very creative and bright. Justin was impressed by him.

The afternoon went out in a flash, and the men looked up in surprise when they realized it was already dark outside. The snow had stopped falling.

“Look, Justin. The storm has finished. What do you say, should we try your phone and see if the line works now?” Brian asked, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

Justin was suddenly reminded of their situation. They were not two friends sharing a house and a common interest. Brian had a life out there, one he couldn’t wait to get back to. Disappointed, Justin replied, “Of course. Why don’t you go and check? If it works, you can make your phone call.”

Brian nodded, and left the studio. He returned a while later with a disappointed expression on his face. “Nothing. Fuck! What the hell is taking them so long to fix the lines? I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my presence here for a while longer.”

Trying not to show how much those words had affected him, Justin simply smiled and said, “Not a problem.”

They worked for a little while longer, then Justin offered to cook dinner. Justin decided to make chicken parmesan, and Brian, refusing to just sit and watch, helped chop some ingredients. They cooked side by side in silence, and Brian marvelled at how relaxed Justin seemed to be in his presence. Finding a common ground had definitely helped.

After dinner, they watched a movie in the living room and then Justin bid Brian good night and made to go back to his studio.

“Wait,” Brian’s words stopped Justin on the threshold. “I hate to ask and I’m not sure you can help but, could you give me something to sleep in? I don’t want to sleep with these clothes on, especially since I don’t have much else to wear. I don’t think you’d appreciate me sleeping naked.” Brian concluded and winked.

Justin blushed, feeling a bit uneasy, and considered Brian’s request. “I don’t think any of my clothes would fit you, but I have an old bathrobe. It’s two sizes too big for me, so I guess it could be okay for you. How’s that?”

“Anything other than these clothes is perfect. Believe me.”

Justin went to retrieve the bathrobe and gave it to Brian. “Good night, then,” Justin said.

“Night.” Brian smiled back.

***

_“I wasn’t sure you’d choose this, little boy.” Brian’s voice was low and soft. He was whispering in Justin’s ear._

_“I… wasn’t sure, either.” Justin replied, out of breath._

_“When I asked you for something to wear, I thought you’d come up with something, anything, not to have me naked. You surprised me.” Brian was licking Justin’s ear, and his words made Justin shiver._

_“It’s only fair, if you think about it. You saw me naked in the shower, this morning. Now I get to see you…” Justin’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears. So confident, so flirty, so unlike him._

_“And tell me, do you like what you see?”_

_“I do… you’re perfect. Your body… uh…” Justin’s words were cut off by the feeling of Brian’s body covering his own. The man was lying on him, and he was moving his hips in a circular motion. Justin’s mind briefly focused on the fact that he should have been terrified by being held down by a strong body, but the pleasure he was feeling was too intense. Nothing could compare, not the fear, not the self consciousness, not anything._

_All he wanted was to _feel_. Feel Brian’s chest on his, Brian’s legs between his, Brian’s cock rubbing against his. Brian’s tongue in his mouth._

With a suffocated scream, Justin came.

He woke up suddenly and was surprised to find himself completely dressed and alone in his studio. He put a hand under the blankets and found his pants wet and sticky.

Dreaming of Brian had given Justin the first orgasm he had felt in five years.

  
**  
Chapter 8   
**   


That Sunday found Brian and Justin in the kitchen again. Much to Brian’s dismay, there hadn’t been another Bathroom Incident that morning because Justin had remembered to lock the door.

Justin had seemed a little weird to Brian that morning. The boy had trouble looking him in the eye at first, and Brian couldn’t understand what was wrong. Justin looked almost embarrassed. Was it because Brian still wore the bathrobe and was obviously naked underneath? The thought made Brian grin, but he decided not to point it out so as not to ruin his chances to bring back the companionship of the previous day.

Luckily, after an awkward beginning, things seemed to get back to normal. The two men sipped their coffee and, after a while, Justin spoke.

“You should really eat more than just toast for breakfast, you know,” Justin said after taking a bite of his apple.

“Really?” came Brian amused reply. “Why’s that?”

“Well, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Eating well in the morning helps start the day better and gives you energy for work and stuff,” Justin replied in all seriousness.

“Thank you so much, Doctor Taylor, but I don’t need food to refuel myself. I have plenty of energy on my own.” Brian’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but his smile made them sound gentler.

Justin rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said, ending the conversation. After cleaning up, Justin told Brian he wanted to retire to his studio and paint, and surprising himself, he asked if Brian wanted to join him there.

“Yeah,” Brian replied. “I want to finish working on the ad we started yesterday. But not a single drop of paint will touch your hand before you exercise it, got it? We don’t want to repeat yesterday’s performance, do we?”

Blushing at Brian’s concern and touched by the fact that he’d remembered about his need for constant exercising, Justin nodded without replying. Both men had started to make their way towards Justin’s studio, when Brian realized it would be better if he dressed up.

“Listen, you go ahead. I’ll go dress and join you.”

“Oh… you… yeah, of course. I’ll…uh… see you there.” Justin stuttered, his cheeks becoming even redder than before.

‘What the hell is wrong with him, now?’ Brian asked himself for the hundredth time that weekend. ‘This fucking kid is a mystery.’

***

The whole day was spent in Justin’s studio, a pleasant atmosphere permeating the air. Both men worked and accomplished more than they’d thought possible. Brian had to admit that, all things considered, his accident had been a lucky shot. Had he been home, in fact, he wouldn’t have worked on a Sunday nor he would have come up with the brilliant idea _Justin_ had inspired and helped with.

Justin started the painting he had created in his mind the night of Brian’s arrival. It was far from being finished, but the shape of the lonely house enveloped by the snow was already clearly discernible, as was the figure approaching the house. Justin knew he had painted Brian, and for this reason he refused to show the canvas to his guest.

“It’s still unfinished, I don’t feel comfortable letting you see it.” Justin justified his denial, lowering his head to hide his embarrassement.

Brian was about to insist, but at that moment the phone rang.

Justin’s head shot up and his eyes fixed on Brian’s. They stood there, surprise having apparently frozen them to the spot. In the end, Justin moved and, feeling like a strange vise was gripping his heart, went to answer it.

“Hel… Hello?”

“Justin! Oh my God, I was so worried! Are you okay?” Jennifer’s voice was full of panic while she spoke to her son for the first time in days.

“Yes, Mom. Everything’s fine.” Justin replied.

“I tried to call you as soon as I heard about the snow storm, but the phone didn’t work!”

“I know. The line went down. I’m sorry you were worried. I’m fine.” Justin’s voice was calm, but still retained the weariness it always had when he spoke to his mother. Guilt and pain made Justin feel uneasy with his own mother, and he hated that.

They talked for a brief while, Jennifer promising to come visit Justin as soon as the roads were free, then he hung up. Turning around, Justin saw Brian leaning on the doorframe, clearly having listened to his conversation.

“You and your mother are not so close, are you?” Brian asked.

“I…” Justin found himself unable to say more.

“Don’t worry, I know all about these things. Parents. Why the fuck do we need them, again?” Brian joked, trying to lighten up the mood.

Justin tried an unconvincing smile, then said, “Why don’t you use the phone, now? You can call for help.” The last bit was said with a grim note that Justin was sure Brian had heard perfectly.

Luckily, Brian chose not to point it out. “Yeah, thanks,” he simply said instead.

Justin briefly asked himself if he should return to his studio and give Brian some privacy, but curiosity stopped him on the threshold.

The first call Brian made was to AAA. He described, to the best of his ability, the place where he had left his car after the accident and thanked the person on the other side of the line when they told him they’d retrieve the ‘Vette first thing next morning.

The second call was more interesting.

“Hey, Mikey,” Brian said, affection clearly audible in his tone. “Yes… no… I… Micheal, for Christ’s sake would you quit whining and listen to me?” Brian’s exasperation made Justin smile. “I had a fucking accident. No, I’m fine, Mikey. No, I couldn’t call you because my fucking cell phone had no signal. What do you think I did? I walked. Yes, in the snow. Yes, of course I found help, where do you think I’ve been all weekend? No, the phone didn’t work here until now. I just called triple A and they’ll get the ‘Vette tomorrow. Listen, can you come pick me up so I don’t have to go back to Pittsburgh in their truck? Yeah, uh…” Brian turned around and asked Justin for his address.

Justin hesitated. He didn’t want anyone else on his grounds, not if he could help it, but this Michael guy didn’t have to come in, did he? Realizing Brian was still waiting for the address, Justin finally gave it to him and listened while Brian repeated it on the phone.

“First thing in the morning. Yes, okay. I know, Mikey, but how could I call you? Yeah, right. Me too. Say hello to the Professor for me. Bye.” With that, Brian hung up.

“Was your boyfriend worried?” Justin asked, his mouth having apparently lost any kind of connection with his mind.

“Uh?” came Brian’s puzzled reply.

“I… Michael… your boyf… boyfriend. Was he worried?”

“Mikey is always worried. Only he’s not my boyfriend,” Brian spat out the word with deep distaste. “He’s a friend.”

“Oh,” Justin said, “I just thought… I… no, nothing.”

“What?”

“No, really, it’s none of my business…”

“Look, kid, let’s not play twenty questions. Just say it.” Brian said sighing.

“It’s just…” Justin spoke softly, his voice barely audible. “You obviously seemed very close to him. Your voice while you spoke… I just… I just thought he was your boyfriend.”

“Right, I think we need to get something straight – so to speak.” Brian’s tone was serious, but he threw in a joke because he was about to go home and he didn’t want to spend his last hours in that house watching Justin rebuilding a fucking wall between them. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t believe in that shit. I don’t need a fucking ‘ball and chain’ tied to my ankle, and I don’t want to have to justify my every move. Plus, my cock is mine and I do with it as I please, without having to consider anyone’s feelings. Is that clear?”

Justin looked at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

‘That’s it, now I’ll have to listen to another lecture on how love is so great,’ Brian thought, and so he said, “Okay, let’s hear it. Tell me how I’m wrong.”

“I… don’t think you… I mean…” Justin seemed to be at loss for words for a moment, so Brian just looked at him with a bored expression. Then Justin spoke. “There was a time when I… would have spent days trying to prove you… maybe even show you… how wrong you were, and that being in a relationship it’s a good thing, a wonderful thing. Now, I… I just… love is not… not what you would expect. It hurts, everything does. So maybe you’re doing the right thing avoiding it, so you won’t suffer at its hand.”

“What the fuck makes you think that I believe love is bullshit because I don’t want to be hurt? Where the hell do you get these ideas?” Brian asked, pissed more at himself and at the way Justin’s words had made him feel, that at Justin.

“I didn’t say that… I-” Justin’s words were interrupted by Brian.

“The fuck you didn’t! You said I avoid love so I won’t get hurt. That’s not true!” ‘Calm the fuck down, Kinney,’ Brian scolded himself in his mind. ‘Why the hell are you getting so worked up over this?’

Justin took a step back, clearly frightened by Brian’s anger, but he didn’t run away. He didn’t even _think_ about running away and avoiding the confrontation. Somehow, he knew Brian’s anger wasn’t directed at him.

“No, Brian. I didn’t say that. I said that, since love hurts, maybe your take on it is the right one. If everyone felt the way you do, maybe _they_ would avoid being hurt. I wasn’t talking about you…” Justin said, trying to calm Brian.

Taking a deep breath, and cursing himself silently, Brian nodded. Then, abruptly changing the subject, he asked what they should cook for dinner. Justin accepted the change of direction with relief and the men went to fix themselves something to eat.

They once again spent the evening in front of the TV, and then separated for the night.

***

_“Now that’s the correct way to take a shower, Justin.” Brian’s breath was hot in his ear. Justin’s whole body, his _naked_ body, was pressed against Brian’s. As the water ran all over them, they kissed._

“Hmmm, I like this kind of shower more. I think we should always shower this way from now on,” Justin smiled into Brian’s kiss.

Brian returned the smile before gently turning Justin around, so that his ass pressed deliciously against Brian’s hard cock. “Now, I’m going to fuck you. I’ll fuck you so hard you will always feel me inside you.”

“Yes… God, yes. Make me feel it. Make me feel like you’ll always be there. Always inside me.”

With a strangled groan, Justin came for the second night in a row; and again he found himself alone in his bed, his hand the only companion for his cock.

Why did he keep dreaming about Brian? And why was he always so different in these dreams? Justin had no way to answer these questions.

***

After an almost sleepless night, Justin had gotten up as soon as it was light out. He had showered as quickly as he could, trying to erase his dream from memory – and failing. Justin’s cock had reacted when his own hands had touched it, but Justin had refused to do something about it. It was one thing to have an orgasm during a dream, it was quite another willingly seek out one’s own pleasure. Justin couldn’t consciously do it. He just couldn’t.

Wearing only a bathrobe, and confident with the fact that, it being so early in the morning, Brian was still fast asleep, Justin hastily left the bathroom to escape fantasies and reality both. Once outside the room, his body violently connected with something and Justin found himself lying on the floor. Well, not really on the floor. He found himself lying on _Brian_.

“I… I’m so… sorry… I,” Justin tried to say, but stopped and froze when he realized that his legs were open and he was straddling Brian’s hips – and that he could clearly feel Brian’s very hard cock pressing against his ass. His own cock, already half hard from the shower, reacted to Brian’s presence, making Brian’s eyes, as well as his own, open wide.

Then it happened.

Later, Justin would tell Daphne he had no idea who started the whole thing. He only knew that one moment he had been staring into Brian’s eyes, and the next they were kissing.

The feel of Brian’s tongue in his mouth was like nothing Justin had ever felt. He had been kissed before, even if it seemed to have happen in another life now, but nothing had even come close to this. Brian kissed him expertly, savoring Justin’s mouth like it was the most delicious fruit. Brian’s lips were soft and he tasted so good. Justin moaned in his mouth.

Brian’s hands were all over Justin’s body, and the boy was trying to remember why exactly he should not allow Brian or anyone else to touch him. He came up with nothing, his mind refused to work… and so he decided to just feel. Justin felt Brian’s hands on his back, on his legs, on his ass. He felt Brian’s hips raising and rubbing against Justin’s. He felt the friction of Brian’s cock against his ass, and his own cock against Brian’s stomach.

Justin felt the heaven that came from a release that had nothing to do with his hand or his own fantasy. He felt Brian’s body rubbing against his for a moment more, and then Brian went rigid under him and let out a loud groan when orgasm hit him, too.

Panting, the two men lay on the floor. Justin’s head on Brian’s shoulder, their mouths close enough to touch, and Brian’s arms keeping Justin close to his own body. Justin was looking up at Brian, his expression open and unguarded, and Brian couldn’t help but kissing him softly.

“Hmm, now this is a nice way to start the morning,” Brian said, laughing softly, and breaking the spell. His tone, so similar to the one he had in Justin’s dream, startled Justin and made him scramble to get up.

“Hey, hey, easy there,” Brian said, surprised. “What now?”

“Nothing, I… you… you should go take a shower… I…” Blushing furiously, Justin wasn’t able to say more.

“Well, you’re gonna need another shower, too, so why don’t we save water and…” Justin never heard the end of Brian’s sentence because his mind suddenly started working again, and ordered his legs to run. And so he did.

“I guess that’s a no, then,” Brian said to the empty hall. Disappointed, he entered the bathroom.

***

Now dressed, Brian had just managed to lure Justin out of hiding with the promise of coffee when there was a knock on Justin’s door.

“Brian?” Someone called from the outside. “Brian, it’s me. Are you there?”

“Michael,” Brian told Justin, and the boy nodded. “I should go.”

“Yeah, you should.” Justin whispered.

“Are you going to accompany me to the door?” Brian asked. Then, seeing the terrified expression on Justin’s face, he added, “Of course not. Right. Thank you for everything. The food, the bed, the ad. I suppose I’ll see you.”

Justin tilted his head to the side, obviously trying to understand where exactly could they see each other again given the fact that Justin had no intention of ever leaving his house, and given the fact that once Brian returned to his own life he would forget about Justin in a flash.

The sight of Brian moving towards the door woke Justin up from his musings. He stood there, watching Brian opening the door just enough for him to exit – another thoughtful move on Brian’s part. Then the door closed.

***

“Hey, Mikey,” Brian said, hugging his friend.

“Brian! I was so worried! Are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes at Michael’s concern, Brian replied, “I’m fine, Mikey. I told you.” Then Brian kissed Michael softly on the lips.

Reassured, Michael smiled and said, “Wow, this house is huge! Shouldn’t I go inside and thank the owner for helping you?”

“Nah, I think I thanked him enough for both of us,” Brian replied, tongue in cheek.

“Yeah, I bet,” came Michael’s reply.

***

Justin had thought about going back inside his studio but curiosity got the better of him, and he had found himself looking out of the living room window. He had witnessed Brian hugging and then kissing a cute guy, but he hadn’t been able to make out the words they were exchanging.

He had stood there watching the two men walk towards Michael’s car, his eyes fixed on Brian’s back. Brian must have felt his eyes on him because, just before climbing aboard, he turned around and his eyes met Justin’s.

Justin’s hand rose by its own volition in a silent goodbye. Brian simply nodded.

Justin remained in front of the window long after the car had left his grounds. The weekend was over, a new week had begun, and Justin was alone once again .

  
**  
Chapter 9   
**   


“You did what?” Daphne yelled in disbelief, her mouth hanging open and her eyes full of surprise. She had arrived at Justin’s house Monday afternoon, refusing to wait until the streets had been completely cleared before seeing if her best friend was all right. “You had a complete stranger here with you for the whole weekend, you let him in your studio, in your _fucking sanctuary_ , and you had sex with him?!”

Daphne’s summary of Justin’s weekend was making Justin feel very uncomfortable. “I… we didn’t really have sex, Daph…” was all Justin was able to mutter before Daphne interrupted him again.

“You were both half naked, weren’t you? Your bodies connected, and you both had an orgasm. That’s sex in my book, Justin.” Daphne said looking pointedly into Justin’s eyes. Then, realizing her tone was making Justin uncomfortable, she sighed and continued, “Look, I’m not saying you did a bad thing. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I mean… you let this man close very quickly. I can’t help but wondering how it happened.”

Having said everything that was on her mind, Daphne approached Justin quietly and made to take his hand in hers. She was always very careful while she attempted to touch Justin, never sure of how he’d react, and she was pleasantly surprised to discover that Justin allowed his hand to be held without flinching. All this only fuelled her curiosity for the man that had shared Justin’s home. “Why don’t you tell me everything, Jus? Please?”

Justin looked at her for a long time, deciding if he wanted to talk. In the end, the need to confide in his best friend won over the hesitation, and Justin spoke. “He… Brian, his name is Brian… arrived on Friday night. The snow storm was in full swing, and he was freezing. He’d had an accident and was hurt… he told me he bled from his head, Daph.” Justin paused at that, and Daphne understood that had been the reason why Justin had opened the door and let a stranger in.

Nodding in understanding, Daphne waited for Justin to continue. “Brian came in and I… I couldn’t. He is… God, Daph, he is beautiful. His face… he has the face of a God. And he’s tall, strong and… when he came in I just… I had to run. I hid in my studio and would have stayed there forever had he not came and talked to me.”

“What did he say?” Daphne asked.

“He wanted to use the phone and call for help, but then when he tried the line… he found out it was dead.”

“Then what? Did you stay in your studio all night?”

“No, I… Brian came back and he… he told me he needed to disinfect his wound and I… well, you know I couldn’t…” Justin stopped, shaking his head.

“You did the right thing, Jus. You put aside your fear to help someone. I’m so proud of you.” Daphne said, smiling and squeezing her best friend’s hand.

Justin let out a tiny smile before continuing. “I just… I just pointed him in the direction of the bathroom, Daph. He did all by himself. And then… he went to sleep in the living room and I got back to my studio.”

“And that was it for the night, huh?”

“No… uh… actually it wasn’t. I had a… dream and I woke him up.” Justin said, refusing to look at Daphne.

“A dream? You mean you had another nightmare?” She asked worried.

“I… uh… I guess. I can’t remember,” was all Justin said, and Daphne understood he had no intention of articulating further.

“But you woke Brian, didn’t you? What did he do?”

“He… came to my studio and he… held me.” Justin’s voice sounded weird even to his own ears. He still had no clear recollection of the dream, but he remembered perfectly the sensation he had felt with Brian’s arms around him. The warmth and the… comfort.

“He _held_ you? Really?” Daphne couldn’t mask her shock at the information.

“Ye… yes, he… I suppose my mind was still focused on the dream so I… I don’t know… he just held me. But then I started to wake up, realized what was happening and I… pushed him away. He fell. He wasn’t… uh… too happy about it.”

“Oh, I bet!” Daphne said giggling, and the sight of her laughing made Justin smile, too. “What did he say?” Daphne asked.

“He was pissed. He just left the room. And that was it.” Justin had no intention of sharing what he himself had said that night.

“Right. What about the morning after? What happened then?”

‘He watched me taking a shower,’ Justin thought, his body reacting at the memory. Should he talk with Daphne about that, too? Justin paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

***

“Brian! Are you okay?” Cynthia’s voice retained just the right amount of worry to make Brian want to scream. He’d already had enough of that. First with Michael, who had tried to insist that Brian had his ‘wound’ checked, and then with Debbie, who had force-fed him a nauseating lunch at the diner. Brian had found himself already missing the quiet of Justin’s house, not to mention his cooking.

“I’m fine, the ‘Vette is fine, everything is fine. Now, can we stop talking about my supposed near-death experience and go to work? I already lost a morning, let’s not waste the afternoon chit-chatting, shall we?” Brian said to his assistant, grinning when she rolled her eyes. “Where’s Theodore?” Brian asked then.

“In your office,” Cynthia replied.

Brian nodded his thanks, then entered his office.

“Hey, Bri! Are you…” Ted never got to finish his sentence. Brian’s glare and his raised hand stopped him dead in his tracks. “Uh… I was just going over a couple of contracts.” Ted said, then, deciding to walk on a safer ground. “Do you want to take a look?”

Brian threw his coat on the sofa, and sat behind his desk. “Go on, then. Show me.” Brian said, and the two men worked for a while.

Ted had just started gathering all the papers to bring them back into his office, when Brian’s voice stopped him. “Can I ask you for a favor, Ted?” Brian said, looking his accountant in the eye.

“Of course, Bri.”

“It’s not something I want advertised, so keep your big mouth shut about it, okay?” Brian’s voice was dead serious.

Ted mimicked the zipping of his lips, and Brian continued. “I want you to research something for me: Justin Taylor. He’s a painter. He should be in his twenties, and lives alone in West Virginia. I want to know everything you can find on him.”

“Justin Taylor? I’ve heard his name before… I can’t remember where.” Ted said, deep in thought.

“Lindsay organized a showing of his paintings not too long ago.” Brian explained.

Ted didn’t look convinced. “No, but… I mean, of course that might be the case but… I don’t know. The association of his name with West Virginia… Oh, well, I’ll do the research for you and maybe it will come to me.” Ted made to leave Brian’s office, but was once again stopped by his boss’s voice.

“Remember, Theodore. Not a word. To anyone.”

“My lips are sealed, Boss.”

***

“He did what?”

Maybe telling Daphne about the encounter Justin had had with Brian in the bathroom that Saturday morning hadn’t been a great idea.

“I know. I… why would he want to look at me? What’s there to look at, Daph?” Justin finally felt free to ask the question he had been too shy to pose to Brian.

Daphne wished she could slap her best friend upside the head without him freaking out on her. “What do you mean ‘what’s there to look at’? You’re not exactly a troll, you know.”

“Me? But I’m… Daph, I don’t do anything to look… good. I don’t want to attract attention! I’m not good for anything… I’m damaged…” Justin’s voice had started out strong but had gotten lower and lower with every word.

Daphne had to bite her lips to avoid bursting into tears. “Justin… I know you don’t want to be the center of anyone’s attention, but you’re beautiful, inside and out. It’s impossible not to see it. And… please don’t say you’re not good for anything. You are… so special, Justin.” The last words were said in a sob, and Daphne realized she hadn’t been able to stop the tears from falling.

Justin looked at her, disbelief in his eyes but deeply touched by her tears, and for the first time in five years he initiated contact. He took Daphne in his arms and held her. Daphne clung to him, and silently whispered a thank you to Brian. She knew this had to be his doing, even if she doubted he or Justin had realized it.

The two friends stood there, holding one another, and Daphne cried.

***

Two hours after asking Ted to research Justin’s history, Brian heard a knock on his door. “Come in,” he said.

“Hey, Bri. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I have the information you wanted.” Ted’s voice was calm, but Brian distinctly heard something else in it.

“What is it, Theodore? What did you find out?”

Taking a deep breath, Ted started. “Justin Taylor was attacked at his prom. A guy named Chris Hobbs went after him with a baseball bat in the parking garage. The two had supposedly had some sort of relationship, but Hobbs had no intention of coming out of the closet while Taylor was already out. The police reported that Justin had ‘flaunted’ himself in front of Chris, and he had felt provoked.” Ted had to stop at that because he was feeling a sour taste in his mouth.

“What the fuck?! _Provoked_? And that justifies bashing the kid’s head in?” Brian was outraged.

“Yeah, we live in a wonderful world.” Ted shook his head, before continuing. “Taylor was in a coma for weeks, and when he woke up he couldn’t remember anything. Luckily, though, there had been witnesses – a couple of classmates – and thanks to their testimony, the jury found Hobbs guilty and ordered him to pay a shitload of money. I also found an article about the story and Taylor’s situation after the bashing. I must have read that article before, which would explain why the name sounded familiar to me. The poor boy suffered several traumas, both physical and psychological. His right hand is permanently damaged and needs constant exercising. He suffered from violent outbursts and panic attacks. And he… well, he never came back from that night. The journalist described Taylor as a talented and bright kid, but after the bashing, he barricaded himself in his mother’s house and refused to leave it. In the end, he bought a house for himself in West Virginia with the settlement money, and no one has ever seen him since then.” Looking at Brian, and finding his own shock reflected on the handsome face of his boss, Ted commented, “Poor kid, I can’t imagine what he has to go through every day.”

“Yeah,” Brian said, nodding. Then he added, talking to himself as if he had forgotten Ted was there, “That explains a lot. I can’t believe he even let me in, that night. Fuck.”

“Let you in? Brian, was Taylor’s the house you spent the past weekend in?” Ted asked, surprised.

Brian simply nodded.

“Wow, I bet you were the first person he saw in five years! How… what… I don’t even know what to say!”

“Then don’t say anything, Theodore. To anyone. If I find out you’ve breathed a single word about this, they'll never be able to find your body. Got it?” Brian threatened, glaring.

“I won’t, Bri, I promise. I just… well, if you want to talk about it, you… uh…” Ted hesitated before offering, not sure how he’d be received.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Theodore.”

Nodding, Ted left Brian’s office leaving Brian to his thoughts.

***

“Okay, let’s sum it all up. Brian watched you while you showered, you freaked but then you made him breakfast.” After Daphne had calmed, she and Justin had gone into the kitchen where Justin had make tea for the both of them. “After eating, you allowed him into your studio _because he asked_ \- your words, not mine. You showed him your latest painting, then worked with him on an ad campaign. The day ended with a dinner and a movie. Sunday went more or less like Saturday, and then the line was restored and Brian called for help. Did I forget something?” Daphne asked.

‘Yeah, actually you did…’ Justin mused, thinking about his wet dreams. “Nope, you’ve got everything,” he said in the end.

“So what happened this morning?”

“Uh… I couldn’t sleep, so I got up early; took a shower, left the bathroom thinking that Brian was still asleep… but he wasn’t. I… we… collided and fell on the floor. I was on top of him… my… my bathrobe was open and so was his. We… uh… I… Daph, I can’t…” Justin blushed profusely.

“He rubbed his body against yours until you both orgasmed,” Daphne finished for him. Justin nodded, wide-eyed. His eyes got even wider at Daphne’s next words, “Did you like it?”

“I… it was… like nothing I had ever felt. His body… his body is so amazing. And the way he kissed me…”

“Wait, he _kissed_ you?”

“Why are you so shocked now, Daph? You had no troubles talking about… what Brian and I… I mean… what we did on the floor. Why is kissing so shocking?”

Daphne looked at Justin like he was a complete idiot. “Because it’s _kissing_ , you idiot! That’s way more intimate than fucking! Don’t you know it? You and I watched _Pretty Woman_ enough times for you to remember that!”

Justin couldn’t help but laugh at that, and he was still smiling when Daphne asked, “Weren’t you scared?”

The smile died on Justin’s face, and he replied, “I kept thinking I should be. But… all I wanted to do was stay in the moment. Feel Brian’s lips on mine. I never wanted him to stop. What does this mean, Daph?”

Daphne felt the sudden urge to find Brian and hug him tight to her chest. Maybe, just maybe, something was changing.

  
**  
Chapter 10   
**   


The events of the weekend, and his conversation with Daphne, had taken their toll on Justin, and he decided to skip dinner and go straight to bed. No dream had come to disturb his sleep, so Tuesday morning found Justin well rested, and eager to finish the painting he had started when Brian was still there.

After eating and exercising his hand for a while, Justin went back to his studio and stood in front of the easel, examining the canvas. He was just about to start painting again when something caught his eye. There was a stack of papers in a corner of his desk.

“What’s that?” Justin asked out loud, before moving to pick it up. A brief look was all it took for Justin to understand that he was holding Brian’s advertising campaign, the one he had designed while Justin painted. Justin’s own sketch was there, too, and it occurred to Justin that, if Brian wasn’t be able to recreate the whole project, all his work would be for nothing.

For some reason, this thought depressed Justin. It was almost as if he felt responsible for this project, having helped creating it. After all, his ideas and his own art, Justin mused, had inspired Brian. With great surprise, Justin realized that he considered Brian’s campaign like his own.

“I need to take these to him. He needs them back,” Justin said to the room. His own thoughts marvelled him, and his hands tightened on the papers they still held. Of course Brian needed his work back, but how could _Justin_ bring it to him? Justin stood there, trying to picture himself going to Brian’s office. How could he go? He had no idea where the office was to begin with! “I could find out, but… then what? How would I reach it?” Justin pondered.

The mere fact that he was considering leaving his home for the first time in five years, that he was looking for a way to reach Brian’s office, suddenly hit Justin hard. His heart thudding loud in his ears, Justin stared wide-eyed out of the window. Going out? Leaving the protection that the walls of his house gave him, abandoning his safe nest, to… do what? Give Brian back his work? Justin shook his head. No, that wasn’t the real reason. Justin wanted to see Brian again. He wanted to see Brian so much that he would take into account ending his seclusion. That was… new. That was something Justin had thought he’d never feel again.

But of course, he knew nothing would come out of his thoughts. Justin would never actually be able to leave his house. No matter how much he wished he could see Brian’s face again, no matter how much he cared for _their_ project, Justin’s fears were too debilitating. They wouldn’t let him move a step out of the door.

Still, Justin wouldn’t let Brian go without his papers. Resolute, he picked up the phone and called Daphne.

*

“Here, Daph. It’s all inside,” Justin told his best friend, handing her the bag he had placed everything in. “I found Kinnetik’s address, too, so you just need to deliver these and then you can go back to class. Thank you for doing this.” Justin concluded, hugging Daphne.

“No biggie, Jus. I actually had a couple of free hours. Not to mention I got to see you again so soon!” Daphne smiled.

To be completely honest, Daphne had to skip a class to help out Justin, but she had done it willingly. Not only because, as she admitted with him, she never let the chance of seeing Justin pass her by, but because Daphne was also incredibly curious about Brian. She had even thought about looking him up and arranging for a ‘fortuitous’ meeting. This simplified things considerably for her. So, no, Daphne didn’t regret skipping classes, at all.

The drive towards Kinnetik was uneventful and, a little more than half an hour after leaving Justin’s house, Daphne found herself pushing the door of the offices open. The place was very glamorous, Daphne thought, and the atmosphere seemed friendly, if a bit frenzied. There were men and women running around everywhere, boards or documents in their hands, but everyone had a smile on their face, and they all seemed able to find at least a few moments to stop and chat with one another. ‘Really not a bad place to work in,’ Daphne found herself thinking.

An elegantly dressed blond woman spotted Daphne from behind her desk, and gently addressed her. “Can I help you, Miss?”

Daphne made her way towards the woman and, smiling, replied, “Yes, thank you. I am looking for Brian Kinney.”

“Oh, what’s your name? Do you have an appointment?” The woman asked, appointment book in hand.

“Daphne Chanders, and no, I don’t have an appointment. I have something that belongs to Mr. Kinney here with me. I’ve been asked to deliver it to him. Personally. Can I see him?” Daphne had no intention of letting something get in the way of her meeting Brian.

“Well, actually I think Mr. Kinney is in a meeting at the momen…” the woman’s practiced refusal speech was abruptly interrupted when the door of an office opened, and a man came out.

“Cynthia, have you called Jacob to tell him that I need the fucking artwork for the _Mighty Mints_ campaign on my desk _today_? Mr. Tally has been calling me all day, demanding to know how it looks. How the fuck do you think I could answer him if I haven’t seen it, yet?”

Judging by the fact that every single person in the vicinity had stopped breathing, Daphne understood she was looking at Brian Kinney, owner of Kinnetik. ‘Now I get what Justin saw in him. This guy is gorgeous!’ Daphne thought, having troubles looking away from Brian.

“I’ve called him, Brian,” the woman, Cynthia, was saying. “Jacob will be in your office in an hour.”

“He better be,” Brian said, his expression serious. Then, noticing Daphne, he gave her a questioning look.

‘I suppose I’m not really dressed as a possible client of the agency,’ Daphne thought, amused. Out loud, she said, “Mr. Kinney?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“My name is Daphne, and I have something of yours.” Daphne said, proud of herself for not stuttering. She was a confident person, but she had to admit Brian was a little intimidating. It wasn’t a wonder that Justin had ran to hide soon after seeing him in his house!

“Really?” was Brian’s sarcastic reply. “I can’t imagine what that could be.”

Refusing to let Brian’s tone put her off, Daphne serenely said, “It’s something you forgot to take with you. Justin asked me to deliver it.”

“Justin?” Brian said, a surprised look on his face. After Daphne nodded, Brian invited her into his office, telling Cynthia to hold his calls. Daphne couldn’t help noticing the amazed expression on Brian’s assistant’s face.

Once he closed the door behind his back, Brian gestured for Daphne to sit and went behind his own desk. “So, you said you have something for me. Something that comes from Justin?” Brian asked.

“Yes, I do,” Daphne replied, handing Brian the bag she had been holding.

Brian didn’t waste any time before opening it, and smiled when his eyes caught the sight of Justin’s sketch. “The ad. I didn’t realize I had forgotten to take it with me. Thank you.” Smiling back, Daphne simply nodded, and Brian continued, “So, how… how’s Justin?”

‘It’s weird,’ Daphne thought, ‘but it’s almost as if Brian wasn’t sure he wanted to ask about Justin. I wonder what’s up with this.’ Looking straight into Brian’s eyes, Daphne replied, “He’s okay. He couldn’t come personally, so he asked me. Justin doesn’t… well, he doesn’t get out much these days.”

“I know,” Brian said, pensive.

‘Does he know? I mean, really?’ Daphne thought. Then she decided to come right out and ask. “What do you know, exactly?”

Brian looked at her for a moment, before replying, “Enough.”

“How much is ‘enough’?” Two could play that game. If Brian wanted to say one word at a time, Daphne was more than willing to humour him.

Tilting his head, his eyes shining with unwilling admiration, Brian said, “All right, I had someone research his history. Let’s say our encounter had left me wondering, and I wanted to know more. So yeah, I know.”

“Mr. Kinney,” Daphne begun, only to be interrupted by Brian’s, “It’s Brian.” She nodded, smiling, then started again, “Brian, I want you to know that what happened this past weekend was something incredibly surprising for me. I’ve been Justin’s best friend since we were both five years old, and I know, better than anyone, how much what happened has changed him. The fact that he let you get close, that he didn’t spend the whole time having panic attacks barricaded in his studio… it’s frankly amazing. I’m not sure you realize the impact you had on him.”

Though Brian appeared to be listening, Daphne couldn’t tell if her words were affecting him or not. Brian’s face was devoid of any kind of emotion and Daphne found herself thinking that maybe she shouldn’t have shared all that so freely. She was considering getting up and leaving when Brian spoke.

“Daphne. Can I call you Daphne?” Brian asked. After Daphne nodded her consent, he went on. “Daphne, I’m not sure what you expect me to say. I just had to spend time in Justin’s house after an accident.” Brian looked pointedly into Daphne’s eyes before finishing. “That’s all it was. There was no ‘impact’, no miracle, nothing. It was all born by chance. So, if you’re here to thank me for something I supposedly did, you can save your speech. I didn’t do anything.”

Brian’s words hit Daphne hard, and she suddenly felt both angry and depressed. Could this man really be so clueless, or was he just so insensitive that he didn’t care about her friend’s progress at all? “Yes, you did!” Daphne said, raising her voice. “You had him make giant steps in the space of two days! I can’t believe you are refusing to acknowledge it. I don’t understand your behaviour.”

“There is nothing to understand. I’m glad if you think Justin benefitted from my presence in his house, but don’t come here telling me I have some kind of responsibility for Justin’s well-being. I’m sorry, but I can’t take any.” Brian’s words had a note of finality that discouraged Daphne from saying anything more. Her journey to meet the man who, Daphne had thought, could maybe bring Justin back to his old life, had been a total failure. This man wasn’t worth another minute of hers or Justin’s time.

Daphne rose and, after throwing Brian a disgusted glance, left his office.

***

‘What the fuck did she expect?’ Brian asked himself. ‘Was she waiting for me to tell her that meeting Justin had changed my life? That from now on I’d want to take care of him? Why the fuck should I do that? I’m sorry for what happened to the kid, but what the fuck has that to do with me?’

The encounter with Daphne had left Brian in a bad mood. The news that the Boss was in a foul mood spread through the office in the blink of an eye, and everyone walked on eggshells for the whole day. Jacob from the Art Department, and everyone else who had been so unlucky to pass by Brian’s office that day, was the recipient of angry speeches and hurtful remarks. Every employee, Ted and Cynthia included, had been extremely glad to go home when evening had come. Brian had stayed behind to finish working.

Just before closing for the night, Brian’s eyes had landed on the bag Daphne had brought him that morning. Sighing, Brian picked it up and a card fell out. “What the hell?” Brian asked out loud. He retrieved what he realized was a note, and read it.

_Brian, you worked so hard to create this campaign and I didn’t want you to have to start over again. I included my own sketch with your papers, so you can use it if you want. I’m not charging you, of course! I promised, didn’t I? I hope you’re well._

The note was signed: _Your friend, Justin._

Brian found himself unable to look away from the signature. “Fuck! What is it with this kid?” Brian didn’t have an answer. Refusing to stare at the card a moment longer, Brian put everything inside his briefcase and left his office.

The Jeep was waiting for him outside, since the Corvette was still being repaired. Brian climbed aboard, fastened his seat belt, and started the engine. It was only when he was already halfway there that he realized he was heading to Justin’s house.

  
**  
Chapter 11   
**   


Justin’s day was productive. Reassured that Brian would get back his papers, Justin returned to his painting and, taking only a few breaks for necessities, he worked until sundown.

Cleansing his hands, Justin critically admired his own work: The house Justin owned, depicted on the canvas, seemed a safe haven, a magical place where the lonely figure fighting against the snow, could seek refuge. If the house – the lonely, isolated, empty house – symbolized Justin’s soul, as Justin himself had intended, what was the man walking towards? Where was he seeking help and care? Was he seeking only the comfort and care of a shelter from the storm, or was he trying to get at Justin, the man? Was he welcomed? Were the doors open for him?

Shaking his head as if to free himself from those disturbing and challenging thoughts, Justin left the studio and the canvas behind to reach the kitchen. He was tired and didn’t feel like cooking, so he simply collected the ingredients for a sandwich, and started the preparations.

Justin froze when he heard the knock.

***

Brian parked the Jeep in front of Justin’s door, but didn’t immediately leave the warmth of his car. Part of him insisted on starting the engine again and going home, pretending he hadn’t made the journey, pretending he hadn’t even thought about seeing the kid again. Another part of him was curious; it kept asking Brian why exactly he had gone there. What had drawn Brian to that house again? What did he want to accomplish disrupting Justin’s solitude once more?

Sighing, Brian exited his car, made his way towards the door, and knocked. His mind suddenly went back to the first time he had been outside of that door, frozen, exhausted and pissed off, and the thought brought a smile on his face. It had happened only five days prior, yet it seemed a lifetime ago.

When no one came to answer the door, Brian cursed himself, ‘What the fuck, Kinney? Did you think Justin would magically know it’s you? The fucking kid is now probably having an anxiety attack!’

“Justin?” Brian called then, “It’s me.”

“B… Brian?” came the whispered reply.

“Yeah. Can I come in?” Brian asked.

“I… guess.” Justin said, and the door slowly opened to reveal two worried blue eyes looking up at him. “Was there… some trouble with the papers I sent you?”

“No,” Brian answered quickly. “Look, can I come in? It’s still freezing out here.” He added, with a smile.

To Brian’s relief, Justin smiled back and opened the door completely. Once Brian was inside, the two of them stood there looking at one another until, surprisingly, Justin spoke first.

“Have you… eaten, yet? I was just about to make a sandwich for myself. Want one?”

“A sandwich,” Brian said, tilting his head. “Sure,” he said after a while, “why the fuck not.”

***

Justin sat opposite Brian at the kitchen table, and kept throwing him glances that were impossible for Brian not to catch. Luckily, Brian didn’t mention them, so Justin felt compelled to keep looking at him. Dressed in a black Armani suit, Brian was even more stunning than Justin remembered; it was impossible not to be mesmerized by him.

“Not bad,” Brian said, interrupting Justin’s reverie.

“Th… Thanks. Would you like something else?”

“No, I’m fine.” Brian replied, and Justin rose to put the dishes away. “Here, let me help,” Brian said, grabbing the glasses and making Justin blush.

“Why don’t we go to the living room,” Justin said after a while. “We could have coffee. If you… I mean… if you can stay.”

‘Stay?’ Brian thought, ‘I only came in for a fucking sandwich.’ Brian didn’t voice his thoughts; instead, he nodded and headed for the living room.

“Hey,” Brian said to the sofa, “Did you miss me? I certainly didn’t.”

“Who… Are you talking to me?” Justin’s voice came from behind Brian, startling him. He hadn’t realized the coffee was already made and that Justin had followed him to the living room, two cups in his hands.

Shaking his head, Brian made to grab one of the cups from Justin’s grasp but, remembering the kid was afraid of being touched, stopped with his hand mid-air and looked at him. Slowly, Justin turned the cup in his own hand, so that Brian could easily take it from the grip without touching Justin.

“Thanks,” Brian said, the cup now in his hand. He sat on the sofa waiting for Justin to join him.

They sipped their coffee in silence, until Justin asked the question Brian had been expecting since he arrived. “So, what are you… uh… Why did you come here tonight?”

‘You tell me,’ was the thought in Brian’s mind. Sighing, he said, “Your friend. She said something today and I… fuck, I suppose I wanted to see it with my own eyes.”

“What did she say?” Justin asked, perplexed.

“She said that I… that you were feeling better. That my company had helped you. Is it true?” Brian found himself asking, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

“I…” Justin wasn’t able to say more, embarrassment clearly visible on his face.

“Listen, kid. I know things aren’t easy for you. If you’re not uncomfortable in my presence, that’s good, but I can’t be responsible for the way you feel.” Brian knew he had sounded harsh, but he wanted to make things perfectly clear.

“Did I ask you to?” Justin’s voice was barely a whisper, but Brian heard it clearly. “And,” Justin continued, “You don’t know how things are for me, so don’t say you do.”

“Actually, you did ask me. You signed your fucking note ‘your friend,’” Brian said, dismissing the voice in his head that kept yelling at him to stop, “And I do know about you. I looked you up.”

Justin rose off the sofa so quickly that his coffee splashed out of the mug and onto the floor. His mouth was twisted in a pained grimace. Voice full of panic, Justin whispered, “You…what?”

“Calm down, Justin, okay? I’m not about to make you talk about what happened.” Brian said, voice soothing. He wanted to get off the sofa, too, but he knew that towering over Justin would not be a good idea at the moment.

“Calm… calm down?” Justin wheezed. “You… have you any idea how much I… You had no right! You had…” His hands pressing hard against his own chest, Justin doubled over, breathing heavily and trembling all over.

‘Fuck! He’s having a panic attack!’ Brian thought, and knew he had to act immediately, if he didn’t want to be forced to call 911 and scare the kid to death by filling his house with strangers. “Justin, listen to me. Are you listening?” Without waiting for the kid to nod, Brian continued, “We don’t have to talk about that, now. Fuck, we won’t talk about it ever if you don’t want to. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did, I know. It’s just… you make me curious. That’s why I’m here now. I didn’t come to force you to relive your past. I came because… Fuck, I don’t know why I came all right? I just wanted to see how you were. I… Come on, talk to me, okay?”

Visibly struggling, Justin’s head rose and his tear-filled eyes fixed on Brian. Brian wasn’t sure if Justin could see him, but the mere fact that he was trying reassured him a little. “Y… you… wanted to… see… I ca… can’t do this. Please, don’t you s…see I can’t?”

“You don’t have to do anything, Justin. Anything at all. Just come sit on the sofa and breathe, okay? You’re freaking me out.” Brian said softly while sliding on the far corner of the sofa.

“You? You’re f…freaked?” Justin asked, disbelief in his tone.

Brian let out a dry laugh, “Yeah, I am.”

Justin looked at him, really seeing him this time. He looked at Brian for what seemed like forever. Then, obviously seeing something Brian wasn’t aware of, Justin took a few deep breaths and sat back down again. Justin sat staring at the almost empty mug in his hands until Brian asked him how he was feeling.

“How… How do you think I feel?” Justin answered, shaking his head.

“Right. Look, why don’t you give me that mug? I’ll take it back into the kitchen along with mine. What do you say?” Brian thought that maybe giving the kid some space would do him good. Justin nodded, but made no move to hand the mug to Brian. “Listen, just place it on the floor, okay?” Grateful, Justin did as Brian suggested, and Brian retrieved both mugs and left the living room.

***

‘He knows. Brian knows. I… I can’t believe he had me looked up,’ Justin thought once he found himself alone. ‘He says he won’t talk about it, but how can I be sure? He says he just wanted to know I’m okay. I’m not his responsibility. What is he doing here? What does he want from me? And why am I not able to tell him to go? Why does the thought of him leaving this house forever feel almost as bad as the thought of him talking about my past?’

Justin had no answers to those questions. He sat there, his head reeling, and tried to control the beating of his heart. He had no idea how long he had been alone, but he was immediately able to sense Brian’s return. Raising his head, Justin saw Brian leaning on the doorframe. The man was watching Justin with a serious expression that didn’t quite mask the worry in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Justin said, his own voice coming as a surprise for him.

“Good. I didn’t want to upset you. I came here tonight not knowing what I was expecting, but I sure as hell didn’t want to cause you trouble.” Brian spoke, looking at Justin intently.

Nodding, Justin said, “It’s okay, I believe you. I still don’t… understand why you… did it, but I… believe you didn’t want to upset me. I’m not really sure why, but I… know you wouldn’t want that.”

Resisting the urge to brush off Justin’s obvious trust – fuck – with a sarcastic remark, Brian only said, “Right. If you’re sure you’re all right, I think it’s better if I go now. I’ve bothered you enough for one night.” ‘Hell, I’ve bothered you enough for a lifetime! And you’ve done the same with me…’ Brian thought.

Suddenly picturing Brian walking out of his house not to ever return, Justin rose. “Are you… I mean, if you wanted you could… come back,” he said, proving once again both to himself and to Brian that _something_ was happening between them no matter how much they tried not to dwell on it. “Some time,” Justin added. “When you… uh… No, nevermind.” Justin shook his head, blushed, and looked away from Brian.

Feeling like a man knowing he’s about to fall off a precipice but is unable to back off, Brian replied, “I could, yeah. Sometimes.”

Justin’s smile hit Brian hard in the chest. The same kid Brian had witnessed struggle for breath a few moments before was now smiling at him because he’d vaguely promised to come back to visit him. What the fuck was happening there? Brian felt the sudden need to leave that house and go to Babylon. He needed to fuck these _’feelings’_ out of his system.

Brian had just reached the front door when he realized that Justin had followed him. Looking at Justin, and secretly expecting the kid to step back, Brian opened the door and walked out. He stood there, watching Justin from the outside, and waited. Justin moved, but contrary to Brian’s expectations, and shocking himself by the look of it, he moved towards Brian and not away from him.

 _Trust,_ was the word that shot into Brian’s mind again, and the thought almost made _Brian_ step back. He didn’t, though. He stared into Justin’s wide eyes, and said, “Later.”

“Later,” Justin whispered back.

‘Turn around, now. Go away!’ Brian’s own voice yelled in his head. Yet his body had other ideas. Brian felt himself slowly lean towards Justin, stopping frequently to give Justin time to reject him. Justin remained still, staring at Brian, until their lips brushed.

The kiss they exchanged was just a peck – nothing more – but Justin’s taste stayed on Brian’s lips until he reached Babylon and another mouth, a casual one that he would forget soon after he would finish fucking its owner, washed it away.

  
**  
Chapter 12   
**   


Two months later.

“Why is it that you two always get to choose the movie?” Sarcasm dripping from his voice, Brian looked at both Justin and Daphne with a raised eyebrow.

“Because,” Daphne replied, “you would only force us to watch Brando or James Dean again and again, Brian.”

“They’re classic,” was Brian’s tongue in cheek, disdainful reply.

“Ancient is more like it,” Daphne commented, earning a glare from Brian. Chuckling, she continued, “Besides, you detest our movie nights. We always have to force you to sit still through the movie!”

“That’s because you two only want to watch chick flicks. Seriously, Justin, no self respecting fag would watch _Autumn in New York_ or _One Fine Day_ without wanting to throw up. I’m ashamed of you.” Brian deadpanned.

Smiling, Justin replied, “Well, I’m a romantic fag.” His smile turned into a laugh at Brian’s exaggerated shudder.

Still giggling, Justin popped in the chosen movie for the night – “ _A Walk in the Clouds_? That’s it, I’m in hetero hell,” having been Brian’s initial comment, the one that had sparked the movie choice discussion. Justin joined Brian and Daphne on the sofa and started the movie. Elbowing an already yawning Brian, Justin settled in to watch the hotness that was Keanu Reeves. He might be romantic, but he wasn’t blind.

A lot had changed during the two months since he’d met Brian. Daphne, who hadn’t wanted to talk with Justin about her first disastrous meeting with Brian, slowly warmed up to the new man in their lives. Now their banter amused Justin to no end, and he loved the note of affection in Daphne’s voice whenever she mentioned Brian. The same affection could be heard in Brian’s voice, too, but only if you knew how to listen.

Justin learned to listen to what Brian _didn’t_ say in order to understand what he did say. The man was like a complicated puzzle, frustrating at times, but stimulating nonetheless. Justin couldn’t help but admit that Brian’s company kept him alive. The man always knew what to say or do to get a reaction out of Justin, but Brian also seemed to know when to stop, when he didn’t have to insist, when it was better if he just sat quietly and watched Justin paint. Being close to Brian had done Justin a world of good, and Justin suspected that might be the reason why Daphne had promptly forgiven Brian for whatever had happened the first time.

Movie nights with Daphne had always been a weekly occurrence for Justin, but it wasn’t often that they’d manage to convince Brian to join them. Usually, when Brian visited, he arrived just before dinner and left a couple of hours later. The pattern of his visits was almost always the same: Brian would call (he always called before going to Justin’s house now, because he didn’t want to find Justin unprepared anymore,) Justin would invite him for dinner, Brian would arrive, they would eat and talk for a while, and then Brian would leave. It was always with a parting kiss, and almost always with Justin waving goodbye from the threshold from behind the open door.

Sometimes, though, like that night, Brian would decide to stay a little longer to watch a movie, or just to work in Justin’s studio. Justin would paint, and Brian would either watch him or work on his own laptop. Those were the nights Justin loved most. Of course, nothing could compare to those rare Sundays when Brian found himself with free time, and spent it in Justin’s company. Those Sundays were like a light in Justin’s solitary life.

It had been during one of those Sundays that Justin had taken his first step out of the house, after five long years of seclusion. Brian had spent the morning with him, and they had lunch together. Unfortunately for Justin, though, Brian had been busy that afternoon. Usually, Justin would insist with Brian to stay longer, and sometimes he would even convince him. That particular Sunday, however, Justin hadn’t even thought about insisting. Brian had to visit his son that afternoon, and Justin would never keep him away from Gus.

Initially, Brian had been wary about talking about his personal life, but in the end he had told Justin about the son he’d had with his friend Lindsay. Brian had a beautiful light in his eyes whenever he spoke about Gus. Justin longed to meet the child, but he knew it was unlikely his wish would come true. For one, Justin knew none of Brian’s friends were aware of Brian visiting him. It wasn’t because Brian was ashamed of Justin, but because he knew it was entirely possible that some, if not all, of his friends might know who Justin was and what had happened to him. Brian didn’t want them to ambush Justin. They all meant well but they were, in Brian’s words, “a fucking handful, and I wouldn’t unleash them on my worst enemy!”

The other reason why Justin was sure he would never meet Gus was, of course, Justin’s own situation. He had relaxed in Brian’s presence and had had very few episodes lately, but Justin still didn’t trust himself in the presence of Brian’s son. What if something freaked Justin out and he started panicking in front of the kid? No, it was better this way. Justin would never want to scare Gus.

On the Sunday afternoon that saw Justin taking his first step out of his safe nest, Justin had suddenly wanted to say something while he had watched Brian walking to reach his own car and leave his grounds. He was desperate to find anything to have Brian stay a little while longer.

“Remember, you promised to come back to see my finished canvas!” Justin had said from the door.

“What?” Brian had replied. “I can’t hear you!”

Justin had known Brian was joking, yet he’d taken a step forward and repeated his words. A weird expression had twisted Brian’s handsome features, but still the man had said, “I can’t hear you, Justin.”

Rolling his eyes, Justin had taken another step forward, and, cupping his mouth with his hands, had shouted, “My canvas! You promised to come back and see it finished! Jesus, Brian, it’s not like you’re so far away… Are you deaf?”

Brian had approached Justin slowly, and Justin had asked himself why it looked like Brian was trying not to scare him. As soon as Brian had been close, so close Justin could feel his warmth, Justin had realized he was cold. So very cold. How come it was suddenly so cold inside his house? That had been the moment when Justin had looked around, and found himself standing on his own front porch. Only air had surrounded him, and his house, only a few steps behind, had seemed so very distant. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Justin didn’t have four walls around him.

Panic vivid in his eyes, Justin had looked at Brian’s smiling face. “Wha… How did I… B… Brian? Am I…?”

“Yes, you are, Justin. Now, stop thinking about whatever bullshit voice in your head that’s telling you to queen out, and just breathe.” Brian had carefully placed his hands on Justin’s shoulders, and held him while he did exactly as Brian had suggested. “Feel that, in your nose? That’s fresh air, Justin. Doesn’t it feel great?” Brian couldn’t help but using a sing-song tone, almost as if he’d found Justin’s struggle to breathe amusing.

Justin’s mind had been too shocked to be offended – maybe the oxygen had burned a few brain cells – and the two men had stood there for a few minutes, just breathing.

“Right. You’d better get in, now. It’s cold, and you’re not wearing a coat,” Brian had said in the end, turning Justin around and accompanying him back inside. After making sure Justin was all right, still shocked, but not on the verge of a panic attack, Brian had kissed him softly on the lips and left.

That had been only the beginning. Now, everytime Brian left Justin’s house, he insisted Justin put on his coat and walk at least one step out his front door. Inebriated by the sensation of freedom he felt, Justin would only pretend to complain, but he would always put on his coat, and always walk a few more steps outside. His hand grasping Brian’s, his eyes wide and scared, his breath shallow, Justin had walked all the way to Brian’s car one day, before realizing he was fully outside. Nothing protected him anymore, not even the front porch. A strangled sound had left his throat, and Brian had taken him into his arms. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you. There’s no one else here but you and me. You’re safe, Justin.” Brian had whispered soothingly in Justin’s ear.

Justin had believed him.

***

A week later.

“Brian, please! You’re his father, and I need you to be with him for a day!” Lindsay’s voice on the other end of the phone was angry and exasperated. “The babysitter is sick, and Mel and I have that meeting at the Center after work. I thought I could take Gus to you early this afternoon so I could go back to the Gallery and finish some work before joining Mel.”

‘Christ,’ Brian thought, ‘now she’ll start whining, too.’ He sighed, before saying, “I told you, Linds, I have plans. Can’t you ask Debbie or…” Brian’s speech was abruptly interrupted.

“Brian Kinney! You will be with your son this afternoon and night, and that’s final! I’m not even asking you anymore, I’m _telling_ you: You’re his father; you need to take care of him, too. I will see you later.” With that, Lindsay hung up.

Fuck! It wasn’t as if Brian didn’t want to see Gus. He was always happy to spend some time with his kid, but that Saturday afternoon he’d told Justin he’d go see him, and something told him Justin would be very disappointed if he didn’t show. Brian refused to admit that he’d feel just as disappointed. Dismissing these disturbing thoughts, Brian took a shower and ate lunch, waiting for Lindsay to arrive.

When the familiar knock on the door came, Brian slid the door of his loft open bracing himself for Lindsay’s death glare. ‘There it is,’ Brian thought looking at Lindsay. Luckily, Gus interrupted the moment.

“Daddy!” Gus morphed into a projectile and threw himself at Brian, who let out a “oomphf” before taking him into his arms.

“Hey, Sonnyboy! Ready to spend some time with your old man?”

“Yes, Daddy! Can we watch _Harry Potter_?” Gus replied, excitedly.

Mouthing “kill me now” to a now amused Lindsay, Brian replied, “We’ll see,” to Gus, who didn’t seem too put off. He knew perfectly well his father would do whatever he wanted, despite what he said.

After giving Brian Gus’s bag, lecturing him about rules and watching both Brian and Gus make gagging noises, Lindsay left, shaking her head and asking herself, for the millionth time, who was the child: Gus or _Brian_?

“Gus,” Brian said, once they were alone. “What do you say if we go for a ride?”

Gus pondered his father’s proposal. “Where would we go, Daddy?” He asked after a while.

“Daddy has a friend who lives in a big house all alone. Would you like to go visit him and keep him company? This guy is an artist,” Brian added, as an afterthought, knowing how much Gus loved to draw. “I’m sure he’d be happy to draw with you.”

“Okay, Daddy! Let’s go!” Gus decided, excitedly, and the two of them put on their coats and left.

‘What the fuck am I thinking taking Gus to see Justin?’ Brian asked himself while driving towards Justin’s house. He hoped his decision wouldn’t prove to be a complete disaster.

  
**  
Chapter 13   
**   


‘Brian should be here any minute, now,’ Justin thought while putting the finishing touches on his latest painting. His art had changed a lot since he met Brian; it had become brighter and softer. Of course, the pain and the darkness was still apparent in every canvas, but the slight shift was undeniable. The last piece Justin had just finished, for example, depicted a dark sky with a full moon faintly illuminating the bare ground; an equally bare man knelt, his back to the observer. He was alone, and his desolation and pain were undeniable, yet, he had a pair of white, spread wings on his back – a wounded angel, alone and scared. His wings, though, were clear proof that he was trying to start flying again.

When he heard the knock on his door, Justin went to open the door eager to show Brian his work. The smile he had died on his lips when he saw that Brian was not alone.

“Hey,” Brian said, before lightly kissing a stunned Justin. “I’ve brought someone,” continued Brian pushing Gus inside gently. “Come on, Gus, say hi to my friend Justin.”

“Hi, Justin,” the miniature copy of Brian said dutifully.

“H… Hi, Gus,” Justin replied. Then, realizing both Brian and Gus were waiting for _him_ to speak, Justin added, “I… didn’t know you were co…coming.”

“Daddy said we should come visit you because you’re alone. He said that you draw, and that we could draw together! I like to draw. My mommy and I always draw together.” Gus spoke with the confidence that came with being six years old and believing the world it’s a wonderful place, and everyone is friendly and loving. Justin found himself envying Brian’s son.

Forcing himself to relax – after all, what harm could a kid do? – Justin smiled at Gus and said, “I would love to draw with you, Gus. But why don’t we have a drink first? I have coffee for me and your dad, and you could have hot chocolate. What do you say?”

“Can I have marshmallow in it?” Gus asked seriously, making Brian snort.

“Of course you can!” Justin said, smiling.

“Yes!” Gus shouted, before taking Justin’s hand in his little one. Brian looked at Justin intensely, perhaps waiting for him to tense at Gus’ touch. Justin didn’t even flinch. He just looked at his and Gus’ hands joined together and smiled up at Brian. Brian smiled back, relieved, and the three of them reached the kitchen.

***

Standing in front of the window, Brian found himself unable to look away from the two heads, Justin’s blond one and Gus’ smaller, dark one, bent together on the table in Justin’s studio. They had been drawing for a long time, and Brian didn’t remember ever seeing Justin so comfortable with anyone else. Of course, he was at ease with Daphne and himself, but Justin’s expression always stayed guarded, even when he smiled. It wasn’t like that with Gus. Justin was animated and full of spirit while talking with Brian’s son, and he had laughed more during his time with Gus than he had in the two months with Brian.

Something in Brian’s chest moved, and he shook his head trying to shove away whatever it was. It was one thing wanting to help Justin take his first steps outside his house, but it was another _caring_ about his emotions and feelings. So the kid was comfortable with Gus. So what? Why should that make _Brian_ feel something? Obviously, there had to be another explanation for the weird vice Brian felt on his heart. He was just glad Justin hadn’t queened out in front of Gus and scared him! Yes, that had to be it. Satisfied, Brian averted his eyes from Justin and Gus, and didn’t realize that Justin had left the table and approached Brian.

“He’s a wonderful kid,” Justin’s voice, suddenly so close, startled Brian, making Justin laugh. “Sorry,” he said then, “I thought you’d heard me.”

“It’s okay. Yeah, my kid is great.” Brian said, blankly.

“I… wanted to thank you, Brian,” Justin said, then. Brian only raised is eyebrow as an answer, so Justin continued, “Yeah, for… bringing him here. I… it’s been a nice surprise for me.”

“Well, you’ve given him hot chocolate with marshmallows and spent an incredible amount of time drawing cars and dinosaurs. I’d say he’s the one who should be grateful. You saved him - and me - from an afternoon of milk and _Harry Potter_ ,” Brian joked.

The bright smile that blossomed on Justin’s face made Brian want to take him in his arms. He hesitated for a brief moment before doing just that. Not counting the first encounter outside of Justin’s bathroom that first weekend together, or the kisses on the lips the two exchanged after every visit, there hadn’t been much contact between Brian and Justin. Of course, their hands had touched more than once, and there had been the occasional brush of legs when they sat together on the sofa, but nothing of sexual nature had happened. The embrace they were sharing at that moment was truly a first.

Justin lay his head against Brian’s shoulder, his own arms encircling Brian’s body. Brian’s hands found their way to Justin’s back, and he held him close. Brian could feel Justin’s cock react to his proximity, and his own cock gave an interested twitch. Obviously having felt what was happening to Brian’s body, Justin’s head rose and his eyes stared into Brian’s. Throwing caution to the wind, Brian kissed Justin.

The kiss was nothing like the simple pecks the two usually exchanged. No, this kiss was hard, passionate, and desperate. Brian’s mouth devoured Justin’s. Clinging to Brian, Justin let him do whatever he wanted, and responded just as fervently. Justin’s wet dreams involving Brian had never disappeared; he often woke up to find himself sticky after one of Brian’s visits, and asked himself how he would react if Brian would try to kiss him. Now, he had the answer.

Justin was so lost in the feel of Brian’s tongue in his mouth, duelling with his own and making him shiver, that at first he didn’t realize someone was calling his name. It was only when Brian stopped, and Justin, lips still open and glistening with Brian’s saliva, was left wondering why Brian had stopped, that he heard Gus’ voice.

“Justin? I finished coloring the car. Can we draw a motorcycle, now?”

Justin found himself unable to speak, his mind still clouded by pleasure and shock, so Brian was the one to reply to Gus. “Sonnyboy,” Brian said, stepping away from Justin, “I think it’s time to put away crayons and paper, and go home. Your mother will come get you soon, and we don’t want to leave her waiting, do we?”

Disappointed, Gus said, “But Daddy, I want to stay with Jus and draw some more. Can we, please?”

“You…” Justin started saying, glad to find he still had the ability to speak, “You can stay, if you want. I… would like that.”

Brian was finding hard to resist the hopeful eyes of both Justin and Gus, but he felt he had to go back to the loft and put some distance between himself and Justin. Besides, he needed to talk with Gus and ask him not to tell anyone where they’d been. He still wasn’t ready to let his friends know about Justin.

“I’m sorry, Gus, but we really need to go. We have a long drive home, and it’s already late,” Brian firmly said. Then, seeing the unhappiness on Gus’ face – not to mention Justin’s – Brian added, “I’m sure we could come back to visit Justin another time.”

“Can we, Jus?” Gus asked, looking expectantly in his new best friend’s blue eyes.

“Of course, you can, Gus. You’re welcome here any time.”

Satisfied, Gus ran to put on his coat, leaving Brian and Justin alone.

“I…” Justin started, before his voice decided to betray him again.

Brian looked at Justin in silence for a while. “Lindsay’s really coming to get Gus in a little while,” Brian said, in the end. “I need to go back.”

“Of course you do. It’s just… No, it’s okay, I… I understand.”

“I’m not sure you do, Justin,” was Brian’s cryptic reply.

Justin was about to ask Brian to articulate further, but Gus chose that moment to come back. Brian looked at Justin intently for a moment more, then went to retrieve his own coat.

“Jus?” Gus asked, once Brian had left.

“Yes?”

“Why do you have this big house when you’re all alone?” Gus’ brow was furrowed, and his eyes sparked with curiosity.

Justin took time to consider his words, then said, “I fell in love with this house as soon as I saw it. Something told me this was a good place for me. I didn’t think that being alone should keep me away from it, do you?”

Gus shook his head, before asking again, “But why are you alone, Jus? Don’t you have friends?”

“I… don’t have many friends, Gus, no. I don’t… it’s not… well, I…” Justin hated not being able to speak properly, but he had no idea how to explain his situation to a six years-old!

Gus surprised him. He simply went to hug Justin, and told him, “You have Daddy, and now you’re my friend, too, Jus. We won’t leave you alone.”

Tears in his eyes, Justin held Gus close and replied, voice full of emotion, “Thank you, Gus.”

From the door, Brian witnessed everything, a serious expression on his face, and the familiar grip clutching his heart.

***

“Daddy?” Gus asked once he and his father were on their way back to Pittsburgh. “Can we go visit Justin again very soon?”

“We’ll see, Sonnyboy,” was Brian non-committal reply. Then, he added, “Did you like Justin, Gus?”

“Yes, Daddy. He’s funny and so good at drawing! Don’t tell Mommy, but Justin is way better than she is. His dinosaurs are _perfecter_!” Gus replied, happily.

“It’s perfect, Gus,” Brian corrected, chuckling. “Let’s make a deal,” he continued, “We must not tell your Mommy about Justin drawing better than her, I agree. I even think it’s better if we don’t tell anyone where we went today, what do you say?”

“Why, Daddy?” Gus asked, perplexed.

“Well, Justin is a bit shy, you see? Having too many people around makes him nervous. We don’t want him to be uncomfortable, do we?” Brian glanced at Gus, and saw him shaking his head. “Good, that’s why I think we should just keep this to ourselves. What do you say? Will you keep a secret for me and Justin?”

Gus seemed to consider his father’s proposal for a while. In the end, he simply said, “Yes, Daddy. It will be our secret.”

Brian smiled, and said, “Thanks, Sonnyboy.”

That evening, when Lindsay came to take Gus back home with her, she asked him what he had done all day with his father. Brian couldn’t help but chuckle when Gus, calmly, replied, “Not much, Mommy. We watched _Harry Potter_ , and Daddy gave me milk and Oreos.” Then, Gus looked up at Brian and smiled brightly.

Brian briefly nodded at him, and ruffled his hair. His Sonnyboy was such a clever kid.

  
**  
Chapter 14   
**   


Two weeks later.

When she thought about it, Daphne couldn’t believe how much progress Justin had made. At first, he would only move a few steps outside his house if Brian was with him, but recently Justin accompanied Daphne out, too, and stood there until she reached her car. The first time it happened, Daphne burst out crying on the way home. She cried so much that she was forced to pull over, and remain parked until she calmed down.

Remembering that day made Daphne smile. She was sitting in Justin’s kitchen, watching her best friend and Brian argue over Justin’s choice for dessert. Grinning, she tuned in on their conversation.

“Just one bite, Brian. Come on!” Justin was saying, a spoonful of tiramisu in his hand.

“That bomb of calories isn’t coming close to my lips, twat,” Brian’s horrified expression made both Justin and Daphne laugh.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, Brian,” Daphne commented, digging into her plate.

“Of course I know what I’m missing!” Brian replied, before listing, “Cholesterol, rotten teeth, clogged arteries. Not to mention a fat ass,” he finished, looking pointedly at Daphne.

“Hey!” came Daphne outraged reply. “Don’t you dare! My ass is perfectly shaped, thank you. I’ll have you know that this ass,” Daphne said, placing a hand on it, “has been getting tons of attention lately, and no one has ever complained!”

Justin shocked, “Daph!” made Daphne grin, but it was Brian’s disgusted, “Are you trying to leave a permanent scar in my brain?!” that made her almost double over with laughter.

Brian opened his mouth again, perhaps wanting to scold Daphne for daring to speak about hetero sex in his presence, but not a single word came out of it. Taking advantage of the situation, in fact, Justin fed Brian the spoon filled with the delicious dessert he still held, effectively preventing him from speaking.

“Ha!” Justin exclaimed, triumphantly.

Glaring at him, Brian swallowed his mouthful, then said, “You’re gonna pay for that, you little shit.”

Justin squeaked when Brian attacked, and Daphne looked up, suddenly worried. She soon discovered there was nothing to fear. Brian was holding Justin close, his back to Brian’s chest, and was tickling him. Justin tried unsuccessfully to escape Brian’s fingers, shouting, “I’m sorry! I’ll never do anything like that, again, I swear! Brian, please!”

“See that you don’t,” Brian whispered in Justin’s ear, before releasing him.

Swallowing the tear that threatened to escape, Daphne said a thank you to whoever had sent Brian in their lives.

***

Brian and Justin escorted Daphne to her car after lunch, and stood there waving goodbye until she disappeared from view. She wanted to stay with them that afternoon, but her Grandma was visiting at her parent’s house, and she knew her Gran would want to see her, too.

Once alone, Justin made to get back inside, but Brian stopped him. “Justin,” he said, “the other day you told me you liked my Corvette.”

“I did, yes,” was Justin surprised reply.

“Well, what do you say if I take you for a ride?” Brian proposed.

“A ri… ride? Away from… from… I… Brian, I…” Throat suddenly dry, Justin wasn’t able to say more.

“It was just a suggestion, Justin. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d throw the idea out there. Let’s go back inside.” Brian placed his hand behind Justin’s back, and steered him in the direction of the house.

“Brian, wait,” Justin said, shocking himself more than Brian. “Where… where would we go?”

Smiling, Brian replied, “Well, I’m not talking about driving around for hours! We could go just down the road and back.”

“Down the… uh…” Justin paused, his eyes roaming the grounds considering the distance. “I… Brian, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, Sonnyboy. Come on. Let’s go to your studio and see if we can work for a while.”

They were just a few steps away from Justin’s house when Justin suddenly said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Brian asked, looking deeply into Justin’s eyes.

“Yes, okay. Let’s go for a ride. Just… till the end of the road, right?” Justin pleaded.

“Not an inch further,” was Brian’s reply.

Satisfied, Justin let Brian guide him to the ‘Vette. He laughed when Brian, with unusual chivalry, opened the door for him and waited until Justin sat down. Eyes wide, Justin followed Brian’s journey to his own side of the car, grateful to see that Brian’s eyes never left his. When Brian was seated beside him, he leaned in to fasten Justin’s seatbelt, mumbling, “We want you safe,” and making Justin blush.

“I am,” Justin heard himself say. “With you, I am safe.”

The trust shining in Justin’s eyes made Brian want to take the boy back inside, and run away never to come back again. What was he doing here with this troubled kid? Why was helping him so important for Brian? And why, everytime Justin’s blue eyes looked up at him like he was some kind of hero, did Brian want to both yell at him to stop and promise him he’d protect him from the world?

Pushing these thoughts away, Brian briefly nodded towards Justin and started the engine. He drove quietly until the end of the road, then stopped to look at his passenger. The expression on Justin’s face was the most beautiful thing Brian had ever seen. ‘Right, I wonder how much time I have left before definitely turning into a fucking lesbian,’ Brian thought, disgusted.

“You like it?” Brian asked, after a while.

“Wha… what?”

“My car, of course. What else?” was Brian’s tongue in cheek reply.

Justin giggled, looking at Brian with sparkling eyes. “I do, yes. I think… Can we drive a little longer? Not much, just… around the block?”

Brian’s hand grabbed Justin’s, squeezing it, and he said, “We can do anything you want, Justin.” He resumed driving.

The ride hadn’t lasted for more than ten minutes, still it seemed to both men as though a year had passed once they reached Justin’s again. Justin sat staring at his house, almost as if he couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream, that for once he wasn’t picturing himself out there, that he _was_ outside.

Euphoric in mind and heart, Justin threw himself at Brian and kissed him. The two of them had kissed often in the past two weeks, that kiss during Gus’ first visit having taken their relationship to a new level, but Justin had never initiated anything. He had allowed Brian to do with his mouth as he pleased, and had responded, but that had been it. That day, in Brian’s car, Justin had taken the initiative, and was now kissing Brian with all he had inside.

Brian cupped Justin’s head, angling it, and deepened the kiss. He felt Justin moan against his mouth, and his body responded immediately to the sound. Justin’s hands, that had been on Brian’s chest until then, started tentatively roaming Brian’s body, until one reached Brian’s groin.

“You don’t have to do that,” Brian said, taking his mouth away from Justin with great effort.

Justin looked at him, eyes uncertain and scared, but with a new resolution in them. Then Justin said, “I want to,” and unzipped Brian’s pants.

Brian’s mind was telling him he should make sure Justin was all right, that this was really what the kid wanted, but Justin’s hand found its way inside Brian’s pants, and all Brian was able to do was throw his head back and groan loudly.

Rendered bold by Brian’s reaction, Justin started stroking Brian’s cock, slowly at first, experimenting. His eyes never left Brian’s face, watching closely every single expression, while Justin learned the rhythm. He soon found out that running his thumb over the slit of Brian’s cock, elicited a strangled sound out of Brian’s throat. He also realized that the best way to make Brian even harder, was to give his cock a slow, torturous stroke, from base to tip, then two fast strokes in succession.

This wasn’t the first handjob of Justin’s life, but it almost felt so to Justin. He hadn’t had a cock in his hand for a very long time, not even his own if not to wash it or briefly touch it after a wet dream. Justin was glad Brian’s had been the first. He couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

‘I’m in love with him,’ was the thought that exploded suddenly in Justin’s mind, and his hand lost its rhythm.

“Justin… God… don’t stop…” Brian mumbled incoherently, grabbing Justin’s head and kissing him hard.

‘I love you,’ Justin wanted so much to say, but something stopped him. He kept stroking Brian, instead, and didn’t stop until he felt his cock flex and Brian’s whole body go rigid. Brian came, mouth pressed against Justin's, eyes closed and body shuddering.

Coming down from his high, Brian kept kissing Justin lightly on the lips. Once he had stopped shuddering, he whispered, “Your turn,” and his hand slowly crept over Justin’s lap. Brian stopped before reaching his destination, though, and looked into Justin’s eyes, silently asking for permission. Not trusting himself enough to speak, Justin nodded his consent.

When the cold air hit his freed erection, Justin shivered, but soon he felt his cock enveloped by Brian’s warm hand. Justin knew there was no way he could control himself. The mere sensation of Brian’s skin on his had already been enough to bring him on the edge. Biting his lip, Justin struggled not to come too soon, until he heard Brian’s whisper, “Let go, Justin. Come for me, I want to watch you.”

Shouting Brian’s name, Justin let the pleasure wash over him. His orgasm seemed to last forever, and left him spent afterwards. Justin collapsed against his seat, breathing heavily. A part of his mind realized that Brian was cleaning their hands on a towel, and tucking them both in; but Justin was still too lost in his own pleasure to do anything more than just sit there.

After what seemed like an eternity, Justin looked over and saw Brian studying his face. Justin smiled and, relieved, Brian smiled back.

“Thank you for the ride,” Justin joked, making Brian laugh, a proud expression on his face.

“Any time, little boy,” was Brian’s winking reply. “Come on, now,” Brian continued, “We better get you inside.”

The two of them got out of the car and entered Justin’s house. After a quick stop to the bathroom, Justin caught up with Brian in his own studio. Brian stood in front of the window, his back to Justin, and Justin went up to him. He placed one hand on Brian’s back, making him turn around. Once they were face to face, Brian saw Justin hesitating. It was obvious the kid wanted a hug, but for some reason he didn’t want to initiate it. Refusing to analyze his own behaviour, Brian took him into his arms, and Justin rested his head against Brian’s shoulder.

They stood there, holding one another, until Justin spoke.

“I love you,” he said, finally vocalizing what he hadn’t been able to say when they were still in Brian’s car.

Brian stiffened, and pushed Justin away.

“Brian?” Justin called, puzzled. “What… are you…?”

“Fine. Listen, I need to go, now.” Brian said, voice suddenly sounded very cold in Justin’s ears.

“Go? But I thought…” Justin couldn’t understand what was happening. Of course, he knew what Brian’s view on relationships and love was, but Justin wasn’t asking him for anything. He had not expected Brian to respond to his declaration, although he had hoped Brian would. All Justin had wanted was to tell Brian how he felt. Why was he acting like this?

“I know, but I just remembered I’m needed at Babylon, tonight.” Brian said, distancing himself from Justin.

“Babylon? Is that the club you own?” Justin knew everything about Babylon, Brian had talked with him about the club more than once, but he was trying with all his might to prevent Brian from leaving. ‘Maybe,’ he thought, ‘if I can make him stay a while longer, he’d talk to me.’

“Yeah, that one. Listen, I really need to go.” Brian said, disappointing Justin’s expectations. He put on his coat and made for the door without looking at Justin again.

“Brian!” Justin called. Brian stopped moving, but didn’t turn around. “I… When will I see you again?”

“I’ll call you,” Brian replied, and left Justin’s house.

***

“Fuck!” Brian yelled, on the drive home. “What the hell is wrong with that kid? We give each other handjobs and suddenly it’s love? What the fuck?!”

There was a voice in Brian’s head, a voice that kept asking him what was he was really feeling. Was it anger, as he was telling himself? Or was it maybe something else? Fear, maybe? Was Brian scared? Scared that Justin had wormed his way into his heart, and that maybe the boy wasn’t the only one feeling something. Was Brian in love with Justin, too?

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not _in love_ ,” Brian spat with disgust. “I don’t believe in that shit. The only thing worth believing in is _fucking_! And that’s exactly what I will be doing as soon as I’ve showered and changed. Where will this supposed ‘love’ be when I’m buried inside the first willing ass I find?”

Pressing his foot on the gas, Brian put as much distance between Justin and himself as he could.

***

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that… Maybe Brian wasn’t ready to hear it.” Justin was talking to himself in his empty studio. “I need to talk to him, I need to apologize, make him understand that I’m not expecting anything from him. I don’t want anything more than what he’s already given me. Of course, I hope that in time… but I can’t tell him that. I need him to not feel pressured.”

Feeling the irresistible need to clear everything up with Brian as soon as possible, Justin went to call Daphne.

“Hey, Daph,” Justin said in the phone. “Listen, can you come back here now? No, I’m fine. I just… well, I need to see Brian. No, he’s not here anymore and I can’t call him. I need to talk to him face-to-face. He had to work tonight, in his club. Babylon, yeah. Can you… Can you take me there?”

Justin stood there, listening to his best friend’s surprise at his declaration. Daphne told him she was going to go back at his house immediately, and that they would talk once she was there. Hanging up, Justin went to change his clothes. He was scared, his decision so sudden he still wan’t sure where it had come from; but the euphoria of his first ride outside the house – not to mention what had followed it – and the knowledge that he was going to see Brian so nothing could happen to him, guided his steps towards his closet.

Brian would always keep him safe. Nothing bad could happen to Justin as long as Brian was there.

  
**  
Chapter 15   
**   


As Daphne was driving, she kept throwing worried glances at the man sitting beside her. She had tried with all her might to convince Justin to stay at home, but she had failed. It had felt very weird for Daphne, who had tried for _years_ to get Justin to leave his house, to insist that he didn’t, but something told her he wasn’t ready for this kind of trip. Justin had told her about the ride he and Brian had taken that afternoon, but still Daphne wasn’t sure Justin fully understood that a car ride with Brian around the block was an entirely different matter from a half-hour drive to a crowded nightclub.

Justin had been adamant, though. He wanted to see Brian, and he wanted it to happen now. When she had asked him to explain this sudden urge to see Brian, an urge that was stronger than his need for seclusion, Justin had looked her in the eye and answered, “I told him I love him, Daph, and he ran away. I have to see him and explain. He needs to know I didn’t want to force him into something he’s not ready for. I just… God, Daph, I just needed to tell him, that’s all. I keep hoping he will… but I know it’s too soon for him. He cares about me, Daph, I know he does. In time, maybe…”

“I get it, Justin, but why do you have to see him right now? How come you’re suddenly so eager to leave your safe nest?”

“Because if I don’t go to him tonight, if I don’t explain myself, I’m afraid Brian won’t want to see me anymore. I… I think I know him, Daph. He’s gonna run, and I’ll lose him. That’s why I need to talk with him, _now_.” Justin explained, his expression distressed and pleading.

“Aren’t you… scared?” Daphne asked, making a last attempt to stop Justin. She had known it was pointless, but she had to try.

“I’m terrified, Daph,” Justin said, “but I’m just as scared I’ll lose Brian forever if I don’t go. Please, will you take me to him?”

Daphne had nodded.

Soon they would arrive at Babylon. Justin’s body was tense but his eyes never left the road. A sense of wonder was in them. ‘Maybe,’ Daphne thought, ‘This wasn’t such a bad idea.’ She could only hope.

***

Loud music greeted Brian when he entered his kingdom. Scanning the crowd, he made his way towards the bar and his friends.

“Hey, Brian,” Michael said, kissing Brian on the lips. Brian nodded in Ben’s direction, getting a smile back, then he ruffled Emmett’s hair and stole Ted’s beer.

“Where’s the wife?” Brian asked Ted, sipping the beer.

“Blake should be here any moment, Bri,” Ted replied, before ordering another drink for himself.

‘On the house,’ Brian mouthed to the bartender, who nodded in understanding. Gulping down the rest of the beer, Brian abandoned the bottle and, without waiting for his friends to join him, made his way towards the dance floor. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. He wanted to fuck the memory of Justin out of his system.

A brown-haired man with a nice body and an even nicer ass approached Brian on the dance floor. After giving him the once over, Brian allowed him close and they started dancing.

Brian closed his eyes and let the feel of the man’s body rubbing against his own wash over his thoughts.

***

“Justin,” Daphne said, once they arrived outside Brian’s club, “There’s a line to enter. I… Look, maybe we should just go, don’t you think?”

Justin stared at the long line of men, and shook his head. He was petrified. He couldn’t do it. There was no way he could wait in line with the others without freaking out! Understanding Justin’s anxiety, Daphne gently guided him away from the crowd, towards a wall on the other side of the entrance. “Breathe, Justin,” she said. “We’re going to stay out here until you’ve calmed down, then we’ll go home, okay?”

“I…” Justin swallowed a few times, until the nausea he was feeling subsided, then tried again to speak. “I… need to see him, Daph. I need to… but how…” Justin looked desperately at his best friend.

Daphne was about to reply, when the bouncer, a big man with a serious but amenable face, approached them. “Are you okay, kid?” he asked Justin.

“He’s fine,” Daphne replied for him, “Thank you,” she added with a smile.

The bouncer kept looking at Justin, who by now was staring at him with eyes opened wide, and said, “Are you sure this is the place for you, boy? I have a little brother who gets really nervous in crowds. I sure as hell wouldn’t let him even close to Babylon! Maybe you should-” The man’s speech came to a halt when he heard Justin’s whisper.

“I… need to see him,” Justin was saying.

“Him? Why am I not surprised?” The man replied, rolling his eyes. “And is _he_ here, tonight?” he asked then.

“Ye… yes,” Justin said, “He owns this place.”

“Kinney? You’re looking for Brian Kinney?” The man asked.

“Honey, everyone here is looking for Kinney!” A slim guy wearing a tight t-shirt yelled from the line, making everyone laugh and nod.

Justin’s eyes grew even wider, and Daphne decided it was time to act. She hadn’t liked that guy’s comment, and she thought it was really better if she brought Justin home. “Justin, come on,” she said, “Let’s go home, now.”

“You listen to your friend, kid. It’s better if you go,” the bouncer added, gently.

“But I… I have to…” Justin’s mind, albeit terrified, kept telling him that, if only he could find Brian, everything would fix itself.

“Okay,” the bouncer said, “let me explain to you how things are, huh? You can go in if you want, without waiting in line. I’ll see to it. But, once inside, it’ll be a hundred times worse. You think there’s a crowd out here? Just wait till you’re in. Are you really sure you want to do that?”

Justin wasn’t sure. Every single cell in his body was telling him to run away, but there was still that tiny voice in his heart that kept calling for Brian. Justin had tried to stifle it in, but nothing had worked, not even the blind terror he was feeling.

“I… want… I… have to see him,” was all Justin could say. The bouncer sighed, before gesturing for Justin and Daphne to enter the club.

“Justin, you don’t have to do this!” Daphne said, hoping something would convince Justin not to go ahead with his plan.

“Yes, I do, Daph,” Justin replied, and she realized all was lost.

Daphne entered Babylon holding Justin’s hand, somehow knowing that whatever would happen there that night would change their lives forever.

***

The trick’s hand had found its way to Brian’s cock, fondling it while they danced. Brian’s head was thrown back, and he moved his hips in circular motion. Another trick had joined them, and was now busy rubbing himself on Brian’s back. Nothing mattered more than this, nothing could compare. Sex was all there was. Jus- Everyone better remember that.

Lost in the sensation the trick’s hand was giving him, at first Brian didn’t realize that someone was calling his name.

“Kinney,” someone was shouting, “Hey, Kinney!”

“What the fuck do you want?” Brian asked, eyes fixed on the face of one of his go-go boys.

“There’s someone over there. I think he’s having some kind of seizure! Aren’t you responsible if someone kicks it in your club?”

What the hell was this fucker talking about? Brian pushed the tricks away and looked around. He spotted a group of people near the stairs and made his way there.

“He’s okay. Just give him some room!” Brian heard as soon as he was close enough. Daphne? Was that Daphne’s voice? What the hell?!

Elbowing his way through the crowd, Brian reached the center and saw Justin kneeling there trying desperately to breathe.

“What the fuck?!” Brian yelled, crouching down. “Justin? _Justin_! Look at me!” Brian said, placing a hand on Justin’s shoulder.

“Don’t…” Justin said, and shrugged Brian’s hand away.

Shocked by the unexpected reaction, Brian concentrated on Daphne and yelled, “Why the hell did you bring him here? Are you completely out of your mind?”

Daphne, visibly resisting the urge to punch him, answered, “Can you just help me get him out of here, instead of asking stupid questions?”

Brian nodded, but when he went to help Justin up, the boy once again refused to allow Brian to touch him. Justin, instead, clung to Daphne’s hand and, slowly, rose. Trying not to analyze the way Justin’s refusal _hurt_ , Brian made sure to create a path through the people, and they made their way towards the exit.

“Brian?” Michael called from somewhere near them, “What the hell is happening? Who’s this kid?”

“Not now, Mikey,” Brian drily replied, ignoring his friend’s calls. He kept walking until he found himself outside, followed closely by Justin and Daphne.

After walking a few steps away from Babylon, Justin stopped to catch his breath and leaned against the nearest wall. Concerned, Daphne stood beside him, caressing his arm.

“All right, time for some answers. What the fuck are you two doing here?” Brian demanded to know.

Daphne’s head shot up, and Brian could see she was about to chew him a new asshole. She never had a chance, though. Justin, surprising everyone, spoke first.

“I… wanted to see you. Needed to… but it doesn’t matter now. I saw you. I heard what they were saying. You… I… didn’t know. Or, I suppose I knew but chose not to believe it.” Taking a deep breath, his eyes refusing to meet Brian’s, Justin continued, “You can go now. I don’t need you here. Go back to those men you were dancing with. Go back to ‘fucking and sucking like only you can do, without ever caring for anyone’ to use the words of your admirers. Go.” Having said that, Justin started walking again. Daphne supported him, and the two of them made their way to Daphne’s car.

“Wait a fucking minute!” Brian shouted, stopping them. “What the hell are you talking about? So I was about to fuck some guy, so what? What gives you the right to judge what I do?”

“I’m not judging, Brian, I just learned something tonight. A lesson I won’t forget, not anymore,” Justin’s voice sounded cold, but Brian could clearly hear the note of desperation and resignation in it.

“Justin,” Brian started again.

“Go away!” Justin shouted, turning to look at Brian, exhaustion and pain vivid in his eyes. Then, giving Brian his back again, Justin walked away.

***

With his head pressed against the window, Justin sat in Daphne’s car, unseeing eyes fixed in front of him.

“Jus… please, say something,” Daphne’s voice sounded worried.

“It’s my fault, Daph,” Justin whispered, after a long silence.

“What? No, Justin! No!” Daphne replied, outraged.

“Yes, it is. I thought… I believed he cared for me, but he cares about no one. He told me that, since the beginning. I should have remembered. I should have _known_.” Justin said, shaking his head sadly.

“Justin, it’s one thing knowing that Brian is definitely not celibate. I mean, no one in their right mind could think that. It’s a totally different thing finding out he’s a slut whose only thought is sticking his dick in some willing hole! How could you know that?”

“I couldn’t,” Justin replied. “That was not… I wasn’t… What I should have remembered is that love can only hurt you. How could I forget that, Daph? It doesn’t matter if Brian beds a hundred guys, or just one. What matters is that _I_ shouldn’t have left myself fall for him! Nothing good ever comes out of love. I know that better than anyone. I suppose I should be grateful that I didn’t have my head bashed in this time, at least…” Justin ended his speech on a note that wanted to be sarcastic, and only managed to come out pained.

“Justin, please…” Daphne started.

“No, Daph, there’s nothing more to say. I just want to go home. I never should have come out of there. There’s nothing in the outside world for me.” Justin concluded, refusing to utter a single word more.

***

“Fuck! Little shit! How dare he come here uninvited, freak out, and then blame _me_ for it!” Brian shouted, his hand hitting the steering wheel of the ‘Vette. He had jumped in his car soon after he’d seen Daphne drive away from Babylon. His policy had always been, ‘Don’t go after anyone,’ yet for some reason he was now on his way towards Justin’s house.

“How dare he?” Brian said again, and he growled when the voice inside his head spoke again. ‘How did he dare disturb your night of fucking, Brian? Or maybe how did he dare reject you and hurt you?’

“Shut the fuck up!” His hand hitting the steering wheel again, his foot heavy on the gas, Brian drove resolutely to Justin’s house. The confrontation was inevitable in his mind.

  
**  
Chapter 16   
**   


Convincing Daphne to leave him alone wasn’t easy, but Justin won in the end. His best friend left only after extracting the promise of a future call. Justin had no intention of calling her soon - he had no intention of _talking_ with anyone for a while - but he faked it well and Daphne left. Justin was currently sitting on the sofa, his limbs as heavy as his heart, and his head pounding. He didn’t have the strength to do much more than sit there; and Justin was secretly convinced he’d never be able to get up again.

The sound of a key turning in the lock of his front door caused Justin’s head to shoot up. His ears strained to catch every sound, Justin heard footsteps. They were heavier than Daphne’s. When the tall figure stopped in the living room doorway, Justin cursed himself for having given Brian the keys to his home. It had been the spur of the moment; absorbed in a particularly challenging canvas, Justin had failed to hear Brian’s knock one day, and Brian was left outside for a long while. The memory of Brian’s expression when Justin finally opened the door would have made Justin smile if the circumstances were different. Justin granted Brian a key after that, giving Brian permission to access his house whenever he wanted. Never could Justin have imagined the day when Brian would be the last person he’d want to see.

“Go away,” Justin said, his voice trying to be firm and resolute, but only managing to sound desperate.

“The fuck I will,” was Brian’s reply. “You and I need to talk. So, start talking.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Oh, you don’t, do you? Why don’t you start with telling me what the fuck you thought you were doing going to Babylon?” Brian asked angrily.

Justin’s eyes met Brian’s, and the boy rose from the sofa. Despite the pain he was feeling, Justin wasn’t afraid of Brian. He’d just rather not have him towering over himself.

“I wanted to see you,” Justin replied in the end. “I shouldn’t have gone, I know.”

“You think?” Brian’s eyebrow rose. “Do you remember that, until this fucking afternoon, you had only walked a few steps outside your house? What the fuck gave you the impression you could come to _Babylon_ and be right as rain? Are you crazy?”

A part of Justin’s mind registered the worry, only half-masked behind the anger in Brian’s voice, but he chose not to acknowledge it. “Yeah, I am,” he replied instead. “Look, I already said I shouldn’t have gone. Can you leave it, now?”

“No, I can’t leave it! Answer me! Why the fuck did you go there tonight?” Brian spat again.

Feeling his own anger rising up, Justin yelled, “I told you! I wanted to see you!”

“That’s not good enough! You saw me all day today, and you could have called me on the phone. Why the hell was tonight so different? Why would you put yourself in that situation? What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“I wasn’t fucking thinking, okay?” Justin’s voice arose again. “I just wanted to see you and talk with you! I knew… I… I couldn’t call you! I had to see you!”

“Well, you saw me, but you didn’t talk. Why?”

Justin stared at Brian in disbelief, “Yeah, I saw you, and I heard what they said about you.”

[ _“Look at Kinney! He can have anyone he wants, can’t he?”_

_“Of course he can! He only needs to look at someone, and he’ll have them with their legs spread in no time!”_

_“He’s such a great fuck…”_

_“Yeah. Too bad he doesn’t care about anyone. He fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, he makes you feel like you’re the most gorgeous thing that ever came in his bed, then, not even waiting for you to catch your breath, he shows you the door. Kinney is a heartless shit, everybody knows that.”_

_“Yet, no one resists him…”_

_“Who could? As long as you know that all he cares about is his own cock, and as long as you don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re something more than a willing hole, I don’t see why you shouldn’t have the pleasure of being fucked by the legend!”_ ]

“What did you hear?” Brian was asking.

Brian’s voice shook Justin from the painful memory. “The truth,” Justin answered.

Brian looked intently at him, almost as if he was trying to read Justin’s mind. Shrugging, Brian said, “Whatever you heard, whatever you saw, shouldn’t have been a surprise for you. You knew who I was from day one, Justin. _I_ told you.”

Nodding grimly, Justin said, “Yeah, I knew. I knew the only thing that mattered to you was fucking. I just thought… I…” Justin lowered his head, refusing to finish his sentence.

“You thought what?”

“Nothing. Look, Brian, can you just go now?” Justin pleaded.

“No, I can’t. You still haven’t answered my question. Why was so important that you saw me tonight? Why couldn’t you wait until the next time we saw each other? Why tonight?”

“Because you wouldn’t have come back after what happened between us!” Justin yelled in frustration.

“What happened between… You mean the handjob?” Brian asked, knowing full well that wasn’t what Justin was referring to.

Justin laughed. The sound sent chills down Brian’s spine. “The handjob. That’s the first thing you thought about.” Justin shook his head in disbelief and laughed again. Staring straight into Brian’s eyes, Justin said, “Sex is not the most important thing there is, Brian.”

“Says who?” Brian replied, sarcasm twisting his mouth and infecting his voice.

“I do! Do you think I would have come to your club only to thank you for the handjob, Brian? Do you really think I’d be so stupid as to go there hoping to have sex with you? Is that what you think?” Justin yelled, his hands gesticulating wildly.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Tell me.”

Justin didn’t want to. He didn’t want to talk about a love he was sure had been the most amazing thing to happen in his life, a love that was now ripping him apart. He knew he had to, though; Justin knew Brian would never leave his house without answers. Besides, if talking about love had made Brian run once before, maybe it would work this time, too.

“I’m talking about what I said to you,” Justin finally said. He sighed when Brian only looked stubbornly at him. “I’m talking about my feelings for you. Today, I… I told you I… love you, and you just…” Justin’s throat suddenly closed, and he had to swallow a few times before resuming his speech. In the end he simply said, “I wanted to explain so that you wouldn’t feel pressured.”

Those last words left Justin spent, almost like he had run for miles and couldn’t even think about moving again. He did, though; Justin took a step back as Brian’s menacing form approached.

“Don’t do me any fucking favors, you little shit! Don’t… even think about saying you put yourself in the position of almost having a heart attack because of me!” Brian yelled, marching towards Justin, only stopping when he saw him retreating. Taking a deep breath, Brian tried to modify his tone before talking again. “I can’t be held responsible for your actions, Justin. You don’t just… You can’t endanger yourself over acting from whatever supposed _feelings_ you might have,” Brian spat out the word ‘feelings’ making quotation marks with his fingers.

“What do you want from me?” Justin asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I want you to stop doing bullshit like this! I want you to stop…” Brian’s words were interrupted by Justin.

“I’ll stop, okay? I’ll stop. I’ll stop acting like I’m a normal man. I’ll stop thinking I might have the chance for a new life, I’ll stop expecting people not to disappoint me. I’ll stop believing you care about me. I’ll stop. I know, it’s all my fault. Always is. I should have known. There, I said it, will you go now?” Justin’s voice was trembling, and he was terribly scared he’d start crying in front of Brian.

“Will you stop talking shit, too?” Brian’s sarcasm was the last thing Justin needed; it broke the final straw, and made all of Justin’s defenses crumble.

“Why are you even here, Brian?” Justin asked, tears running freely down his cheeks. He dried them angrily, and, after taking a deep breath, spoke again, “Why did you follow me tonight? Why didn’t you leave me be? What gives you the right to come here, in my home, and torment me? Is it just to have a good laugh at my expenses? ‘Poor unstable Justin! He thinks he’s in love with me, and he even thinks I care! Let’s make a joke out of him!’”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Torment you? I’m just trying to understand what the fuck is going on in your head, you twat!” Brian replied, annoyed.

“My head?” Justin said, a crazy laugh escaping from his throat. “Let me show you.” Justin knew it was the desperation talking, and that, had he been in a normal state of mind, he would never have said so much. “In my head I saw a man who cared about me so much that he wanted to help me. A kind man, a fun man, an intelligent man, who said he rejected love but was capable of giving it without even realizing it. A man who loved his son more than anything in the world. A man who could make me laugh without even trying. A man who could free me, bring me back to life. A man who convinced me to leave my house and let me see the world again. The man in my head kept his distance from love, but not from me; I trusted that man with my life.”

Justin stopped to catch his breath, and saw Brian looking at him with wide eyes. He continued, “The man who lived in my head wasn’t celibate, but he certainly wasn’t a careless slut, either. That man would never think of me as another ‘willing hole.’ That man had sex with other men, yes, but I was different, I was something more. _He_ made me think I was something more. He was giving me time, and not only because he wanted to fuck me. He _cared_. Tonight, I understood that man doesn’t exist; tonight, I remembered. Love is bullshit. And no, not because fucking is all that matters. Love is bullshit because it can only hurt you. You see something that’s not there when you let yourself be blinded by love. Love can only leave you bleeding on a garage floor.” Exhausted, his eyes bleeding tears like his head bled years before, Justin looked at Brian.

Somehow Justin knew that Brian was about to attack, that Justin should cover his ears from the onslaught. While Justin was certain that Brian would never harm him physically, he was also well aware that Brian’s words had the power to destroy him, like no bat could. When Brian spoke, Justin wished for the unconsciousness that came from a physical blow.

“‘The man in your head’? What fucking bullshit is this? Who is this man, Justin? How could you even mistake him for me?” Brian took a deep breath, before hitting Justin with his next words: “I wish people would stop trying to see something that’s not there. What you see is what you get. Don’t you know it, Justin? I told you, I fucking told you who I was! If you chose not to see it, that’s your problem, not mine. You say you’re in love with me,” the word ‘love’ was said with such disgust that it made Justin shiver, “but how can you feel that way if you don’t know me? If you don’t see me for who I am?” Brian stopped for a brief while, and Justin chose to intervene.

“I thought I was seeing you…”

“The fuck you did! You saw ‘the man in your head’, not me! I’m not that way! I’m not, Justin, and the sooner you’ll realize that, the better it’ll be for everyone! I am defined by fucking, Justin, it’s all there is for me. No love, no feelings, no caring for someone. I see someone I like, I fuck them, they’re out. That is all there is. You knew it, and you chose to ignore it.” Brian was glaring at him.

“Then what… What was I…” Justin found he wasn’t able to continue.

“What were you what?” Brian spat.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Justin wheezed out, “You weren’t fuck… fucking me, so why did you… Why did you keep coming back?”

Justin’s question seemed to hit Brian straight in the solar plexus. For a moment he just stood there, staring at Justin and not moving, his face surprised and wide open. Then, almost as if he had shut a door firmly on his emotions, Brian answered, “I felt sorry for you.”

It was Justin’s turn to feel the blow now, and he stumbled backwards. “You…” Justin tried to say, only to find that his voice refused to cooperate.

“The first day in my office, Daphne told me you were making progress because of me. She said I had found a way to make you want to leave your shell.” Brian deadpanned. “I came here to see if it was true, and when I saw it was, I thought I could waste some of my time to help a fellow fag. I’m sorry if you thought there was more. There wasn’t.”

Justin’s legs gave in, and he fell to his knees. Muttering a curse, Brian ran to help him up, but Justin’s hand shot out to stop him. Using the last strength he had, Justin lifted his head to stare into Brian’s eyes. “Leave,” he said, “and don’t come back. I think you’ve helped enough. You’ve done your good deed, now you can go back to your life.”

“Justin,” Brian started, his voice suddenly softer, “listen, I didn’t…” Justin’s voice, cold and devoid of any kind of emotion, interrupted him.

“Go. Away.” Justin said, pointing at the door.

With a last glance, his eyes roaming Justin’s body with an expression Justin refused to analyze, Brian turned and left.

Justin knelt there for a long time and when he finally rose to go and take a shower, he whispered to the empty room, “Never again.”

Those were the last words he said for a long time.

  
**  
Chapter 17   
**   


__  
The long week after   


Monday – Michael

I tried calling Brian all night after that weird scene at Babylon, but he never picked up. I wonder what’s up with him. Brian’s never been the most reliable person; he can promise you he will meet you somewhere, then get distracted by a nice ass and forget all about you. I used to get really angry at him for forgetting me; not anymore. Brian is what he is, and you can either accept him, or get the fuck out of his life. The second option is unconceivable for me. Brian is my best friend, I will always love him. Ben is the best thing that has happened to me, but Brian is and will always be an important part of my life. So no, Brian Kinney is not reliable, but it’s not like him to disappear from the face of the earth either. That’s happened a lot over the past few months. He never seemed to be home on Sundays, and he almost never had time to meet me for dinner during the week.

I tried to ask him where he went, what was so important for him, but Brian never answered. I thought he might have found a new club, full of new hot bodies to fuck, but now I’m beginning to wonder if the blond kid he helped the other night might have something to do with Brian’s disappearances. Surely, Brian knew him. He called him Justin and he definitely brought him home, too, since he never came back inside.

I was sitting alone in the booth at the diner that morning, when I saw Brian walking in.

“Brian!” I yelled, jumping up and running towards him. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling!”

“Busy busy,” Brian deadpanned, as he made his way around me. He sat in the booth I vacated, and I followed him. “Coffee, Deb?” he asked to my mom, and she nodded in his direction.

I sat opposite to him and started again, “Brian, what the hell happened yesterday? Who was that kid?”

Brian looked at me, his expression blank and… _pained_? Surprised, I shook my head. No, it must have been a trick of light. When I looked at him again, he seemed only bored – his usual state. It must have been the boredom that caused him not to answer me, nothing else. I asked again, “Brian? Who was he?”

“Just a kid, Mikey,” Brian answered after a while.

“But you knew him! How come I didn’t know him?”

“What’s the real problem here, Mikey? That you’re curious about the kid who freaked out in my club, or that I know someone you don’t? Am I supposed to run to you every time I meet someone new?” Raised eyebrow and sarcasm: his defense mechanism was in full swing that morning, and I couldn’t help but ask myself why.

“Why don’t you want to talk about him?” I asked, looking at him closely.

Brian stood, looking at me coldly. “Because it’s none of your fucking business.” He stared at me for a while longer before sighing and leaning towards me; he kissed me on the lips, told me he was late for work, and left.

My mom called after him, yelling that he forgot his coffee, but Brian didn’t stop. I remained alone at the booth again. I had the weird feeling that something was very wrong.

*

Justin woke up, ate, exercised, and painted – or tried to. Justin watched TV, listened to Daphne’s worried voice, and tried to resist the urge to shove her out of the door. Justin slept, dreamt, and woke up again, this time with wet cheeks. Justin never uttered a single word.

***

Tuesday – Daphne

I tried all day yesterday to make Justin speak. I tried to get a reaction out of him. I tried.  
I failed. Justin is not speaking, and I don’t know what to do. I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone after what happened at Babylon, but he was so adamant. He told me he needed to be left alone to process what he had learned. I tried telling him that I was more than willing to listen to him bitch about Brian, and even threw in a couple of colorful suggestions about what we should call him from now on. I may have used the word ‘slut’ a couple of times. Justin shook his head and told me it was not about Brian at all. I wanted him to explain, but he showed me to the door, kissed me goodbye, and I left. That was the last time Justin spoke to me.

I went back to his house yesterday, to try to talk. Justin listened - at least it seemed like he did - but he didn’t say a word. It was frustrating, creepy, and so goddamn scary! I don’t understand… I don’t know how to help!

I was walking down the street that Tuesday when I saw him. Brian Kinney. He was coming out of a restaurant, bidding goodbye to someone. They were both wearing suits and they had their briefcases with them, so I guessed it was a working lunch. I waited until the other man took a taxi before approaching Brian.

I had almost reached him when he turned around and saw me. He looked surprised, that much was obvious, but he also looked… _nervous_? Good, he should be.

“Daphne,” he greeted me warily when I walked up to him.

“What? You think I’m going to make a scene here, in the street?” I asked him, sarcastically. Brian tilted his head on one side, lips sealed, so I continued, “I have too much self-respect to do that, Brian. Today, though, I wish I was the type of person who could makes a scene. I would like nothing more than to punch you in the face, then applaud you, congratulate you on your amazing accomplishment.”

“Accomplishment?” Brian asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, pushing Justin so far back inside himself that he refuses to speak!” I told him, barely able to contain my need to scream.

“Justin isn’t speaking?” Brian asked again.

“Not a single word since I left him Sunday night,” I answered. Brian almost looked surprised, as if he thought I knew something and was just then realizing I didn’t. I wondered if I was seeing too much in his expression. I wondered what he may know, but before I could even think of asking him, he spoke again.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Brian said, and I almost believed him. “Look, I really need to go back to the office, now,” he told me then, and nodded in my direction before turning and walking away.

I forced myself to turn around, too, and walked in the opposite direction. I didn’t know what I thought I could accomplish by talking with Brian. I should have known it would be a waste of time.

*

Justin looked at Daphne while she recounted her meeting with Brian. His expression never changed, and his eyes didn’t light up like they usually did when Brian’s name was spoken. Justin listened, seemed to absorb Daphne’s words, but didn’t reply. Justin still wasn’t speaking.

***

Wednesday – Ted

Brian is acting really weird at work these days. He seems to be constantly in a bad mood, and everyone walks on eggshells around him. Cynthia told me Brian almost bit someone’s head off for something he would have just rolled his eyes about a few days ago. I’ve tried not to interfere, I’ve tried to leave him be, hoping things would fix themselves. It’s been three days, and Brian’s only gotten worse.

Deciding it was time to speak with Brian, I knocked on the door of his office, feeling like a man who’s about to face his executioner.

“Come in,” Brian said from inside. “Theodore,” he said when he saw me, “was there something you needed?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, Bri, there was something I needed,” I answered him, and he sat back and gestured for me to continue. I swallowed. “I was wondering, if you might like to speak with me.”

“Me? And why, pray tell, should I feel this sudden urge to confide in you, Theodore?” Brian replied, his eyebrow making a perfect arch on his forehead.

“Well, I… You’ve been in a foul mood these past few days. Everyone in the office is terrified,” I started, only to be interrupted by Brian’s, “As they should be.”

I shook my head, smiling despite knowing there was nothing to be happy about. I decided to be blunt. “I saw him, Brian. In Babylon, last night. I recognized him. Justin Taylor. Is he alright? Is he the reason why… uh…” Okay, how exactly should I have said that? ‘Is he the reason why you’re like a lion with an injured paw?’ I valued my life too much to say that.

Luckily, Brian intervened and I didn’t have to finish my sentence, “Did you tell someone? About Justin, I mean?” He asked, face grim.

“No, Brian, I haven’t,” I assured him, and he nodded. “Is he alright?” I asked again.

Brian sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, Ted, I don’t think he is,” Brian replied, after a while.

“Oh,” I said, “Is it because of something that happened at Babylon?”

“It started there, but it continued at his house.” Brian’s reply confused me.

“Brian, I…” I started, but he interrupted me once more.

“Listen, Theodore, thank you for offering to let me open my heart to you, I appreciate your concern; now, if you could leave and do the job I pay you to do, I’d have something more to be grateful for,” Brian started typing on his laptop, ignoring me completely.

I sighed and left him alone. So much for trying to fix the situation.

*

The phone was ringing.

Justin leaned on the doorframe of his living room and stared at it. He didn’t move to answer to it. He wondered how much more time would pass before his mother came running to his house. Justin hadn’t answered his phone for three days and he had no intention of answering it again.

***

Thursday – Debbie

That asshole. Michael is worried for him, Teddy is worried for him, and Lindsay’s worried for him. She told me he refused to see Gus! This can’t go on much longer. Holding my tuna and macaroni casserole, I decided to go see Brian. Without knocking, I just slid the door open – seriously, will this kid ever learn to lock his door? – and looked for him.

Brian was sitting on an armchair in front of the TV, his naked feet propped on what looked like a fucking expensive coffee table. He turned around when he heard the door open, and I smiled at him showing him the bowl in my hands. Brian rolled his eyes, then turned to face the TV again.

I slid the door shut and walked towards the kitchen counter to leave the bowl there.

“You do know I have no intention of eating that, don’t you?” The asshole told me.

“‘Course I do. I also know that your intentions don’t mean shit, and that you _will_ eat whatever I put on a plate for you.” I replied, smiling, and he snorted. “Good. Now, before you eat, can you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I’m dazzling, as usual.”

“The fuck you are. Cut the bullshit, and tell me.”

Brian turned off the TV, rose from the chair, and walked toward me. When he was right in front of me, he said, “I have nothing to tell you.”

“Okay,” I replied, after a while, “suit yourself. I have something to tell you, though.”

Brian sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Is there something,” he asked, “anything, I can tell you that will make you go away?”

“I’m afraid not, so sit down and listen.” Knowing full well he couldn’t win, Brian did as I said and sat on a stool. I went on the opposite side of the kitchen counter, and looked at him in the eye. “Your friends are all worried for you,” I started, and immediately lifted my hand to halt the sarcastic remark I could see forming on Brian’s lips. “Now, I don’t know what happened to you, but I’ll tell you one thing. You have people in your life who care, Brian. Whatever it is, you can talk about it, and we’ll listen. We’ll probably tell you you’re an asshole,” I stopped and smiled at his snort, then continued, “but we’re here to help. Understand?”

“Yes, Ma,” Brian said, and I smacked his cheek lightly.

“Now, eat!” I said, and I started filling a plate for him. I watched him eat, wishing he would talk. I know him better than anyone, and I could see he was hurting; but he didn’t talk, and I didn’t insist. I just sat with him after he finished eating, and we watched TV and shared a joint.

*

“You can’t keep doing this, Jus. Sooner or later your mother will want to see you, and I won’t be able to stop her.” Daphne looked at him with a pleading expression. “Please… please, Justin, can you say something?”

Justin stared outside the window, and didn’t speak.

***

Friday – Lindsay

“Justin,” I told him, and Brian looked at me with wide eyes. “Gus told me his name. He said you have a friend called Justin, and that he was hoping you would take him to visit him soon. Then he looked extremely guilty, and said he’d promised not to tell. How could you ask my son to keep a secret from me?”

“I didn’t,” Brian told me, and I gaped at him. Was he denying it?! “I asked _my_ son to keep a secret,” he finished, making me want to hit him.

“Who is this ‘Justin,’ Brian?” I demanded, exasperated. “How could you bring Gus to someone I don’t know?”

“You do know him,” Brian said, and I saw him looking extremely surprised at himself.

“Do I?” I asked.

“Yeah. Justin Taylor, the artist,” Brian said.

“Justin _Taylor_? The extremely talented artist whose canvases I showed at the Gallery? You… How do you even know him? He’s a recluse, and doesn’t allow anyone to see him!” To say I was shocked is an understatement.

Brian sighed. I could see he wanted nothing more than to shut me up and make me go away. It wasn’t going to happen, though, and he seemed to realize it. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, I saw something had changed. Brian had decided to talk.

“Remember the night of the snow storm? The accident?” He asked, and I nodded. “Justin Taylor’s house was the one I spent the weekend at.”

“You? But, how? I mean, I tried to convince Taylor’s agent to make me at least speak with him on the phone, and she told me it was impossible! That even _she_ had never met him!”

“Yeah, Justin… He is… He doesn’t like people,” Brian said, and I heard something in his voice… something that made me walk towards him and put a hand on his arm.

Brian looked at my hand, then said, “He was scared; that night he was scared, but I won him over and he let me in. He shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?” I asked him, concerned. I didn’t like the tone of his voice.

Brian let out a laugh and I shivered. “You think he would know better. You think someone with a past like his would be able to recognize trouble when it knocked at his door. He didn’t. He _trusted_ me, Linds. Trusted _me_! He saw… he thought he saw…” Brian shook his head.

“Brian? What did he see?”

“Something he shouldn’t have been able to see,” was Brian’s reply, and I couldn’t help but ask him to explain. “He saw something that didn’t exist. He saw something I didn’t want to exist. He saw it, he said _I_ let him see it, but… in the end, he found himself face to face with what’s _really_ there, and he… I…”

I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t supposed to. Either Brian was saying all this because he wanted to get me off his back, or he wanted to get it off his chest. It was not the whole picture, but it was an image of what had been bothering him all week. I felt the need to try and get him to say more.

“Seems to me he’s not the only one who’s been hurt, Brian,” I told him, gently, and he looked at me in disbelief.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not hurt!” He shouted, and shrugged my hand away.

“Okay, you’re not hurt. But is he?”

“Have you listened to a damn word I said? Of course he is! I… tried to help him and only succeeded in making him worse! What the fuck was I thinking?”

“You were obviously thinking you could help him,” I said.

“Good fucking deed,” Brian laughed. “That’s what I told him, that I played good Samaritan because I pitied him. That’s what he thinks, now.”

“And isn’t that the truth?”

Brian looked _through_ me for the longest time. I tried not to look away, fearful he wouldn’t answer me otherwise.

“No,” he whispered, “That’s not the truth.”

“What’s the truth, Brian?”

“I… He made me… care.” Brian said, and then he just looked like life had drained out of him.

“Brian,” I told him, and my hand was once again on his arm, “maybe you should tell him. Perhaps all you need to do is talk to him about it. You say you made him worse, but it’s not too late to change things.”

Brian looked at me, and I could see so much pain in his eyes. I followed an instinct and took him into my arms. He allowed me to hold him and we stood there.

*

Justin had troubles sleeping. He kept seeing things, disturbing, hurtful, damaging things. He decided to stay awake that night, sitting on the sofa in silence, watching TV.

***

Saturday – Brian

The conversation with Lindsay kept running through Brian’s head. He had no idea what had happened to him to make him want to share all that. Brian blamed it on Debbie and her stupid ‘your friends love you’ speech.

Brian spent that Saturday almost completely alone, and when he went to bed that night, he had made a decision. He was going to see Justin the following day.

***

Saturday – Justin

Justin didn’t sleep at all on Friday night. He spent the whole Saturday painting until his hand hurt so much he had tears in his eyes. He was exhausted, yet he tried to stay awake. Justin sat on the sofa like he had the night before, still watching TV.

He never realized he’d fallen asleep.

( “I felt sorry for you.”

_“It’s your fault!”_

_Why? Where was he? Why was everything so dark? Where did those voices come from?_

_Justin couldn’t see. He was alone, and it was dark. Why so _dark?__

“Remember.” __

_What? Who was there?_

__“Look.” __

_Where? How could he look? It was too dark!_

__“Remember!” __

_But…_

_There was light, light, so sudden it made Justin’s eyes sting and his head reel. There was pain, too, pain so sharp it made Justin want to scream. He wished for the darkness once more._

__“Look!” __

_Justin’s head rose, and he looked._

_Chris was smiling at him. “I like your hands, Taylor.”_

_Chris was looking at him. “How can you be so delicate?”_

_Chris was kissing him. “Why do you taste so good?”_

_Chris was laughing at him. “I’m not a faggot! What were you thinking?”_

_Chris was glaring at him. “It’s not true! I didn’t let his filthy hands on my body!”_

_Chris was promising him. “You will pay for it, Taylor.”_

_The Prom._

_Justin and Daphne dancing, laughing, celebrating. “I forgot my purse! Can you retrieve it for me, Jus? It’s in your car.” Justin leaving, smiling: he was almost free, he was about to leave this school, leave everything behind. He had been accepted at PIFA, and he had his mind set on visiting Liberty Avenue, soon. Justin’s life was about to begin._

_Justin bouncing in the garage, giggling, inebriated by the music and the promise of a future._

_Footsteps._

_Justin turning around._

_Chris… “It’s your fault!”_

_The bat._

_Chris holding the bat._

_Chris swinging the bat._

_Chris hitting his head._

_Pain. Blinding pain. Asking himself why the only thing he could see was the wheel of a car. A voice. “It’s all your fault. You made me do it. You deserve to die, Taylor.”_

_Why?_

_Pain._

__“I felt sorry for you.” __

 _And then darkness._ )

“No!” Justin fell from the sofa, his head in his hands. “No,” he repeated, “Not my fault, not my fault! You! It was you! _Not my fault!_ I didn’t deserve it, I didn’t! It was… It was not me.”

For the first time in five years, Justin had all the pieces in place. He knew. He remembered.

“You can’t hurt me now. I see you.”

  
**  
Chapter 18   
**   


Brian turned the key he had never returned in the lock of Justin’s door. Only silence met him when he entered the house, but Brian knew perfectly well where Justin would be. The door of Justin’s studio was open and, once he was close enough, Brian could see Justin inside; he was painting.

His back to the door, his hands busy and covered with paint, Justin painted frantically. From his position, Brian could only see glimpses of painting. Justin was obviously depicting a garage as cars were clearly visible in the far corners of the canvas. In the center, the part that Brian was not able to see properly, he spotted a man’s back; the man had brown hair and an arm raised. That was clearly a man ready to hit.

Brian was so intent on trying to see more of the painting, that at first he didn’t realize that Justin’s movements had stopped, and that blue eyes were now staring at him from over Justin’s shoulder.

“I thought I told you to go away,” Justin’s voice, so clear and strong, surprised Brian. “How’d you get in, anyway?”

“I still had a key,” Brian replied.

“You can leave it on the mantle beside the door on your way out,” Justin deadpanned, before turning again. He tried to resume his painting, but his hand was trembling now, and, the brush refused to get back to its previous frantic pace.

‘Not so indifferent as he pretends to be, then, is he?’ Brian thought, grinning. “I want to talk to you,” Brian said out loud, “and I even thought it would be harder to get a reply out of you. Daphne told me you weren’t speaking.”

With his back still turned, Justin simply said, “There was nothing to say.”

“What’s different now?” Brian asked.

“Now, you’re here -” Justin started, only to be interrupted by Brian.

“Listen, Justin, that was exactly what I wanted to talk about-”

This time Justin interrupted Brian. “- and I want you to go away. So, you see, now there _is_ something to say.”

Brian stared at Justin’s back with a curious expression. Something was different, Brian couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that something had shifted inside Justin. Brian decided to find out what was happening. The best place to start with was, of course, the canvas.

“What are you working on?” Brian asked, completely ignoring Justin’s demand for him to leave. Justin ignored _him_. “Okay, don’t tell me, I’ll see for myself,” Brian said, then walked towards Justin.

In a flash, Justin discarded the brush, turned, and lifted a paint-smeared hand. “No,” he said, seriously, “Don’t. Just go away.”

Brian stopped and took a long moment to look at Justin. It had been just a week since they’d last met, but at that moment, Brian felt like more time had passed. Justin seemed… matured. His eyes had hardened and, even if Brian could still clearly see the old vulnerability and pain in them, they now had a new light, too. His face appeared thinner, and there were lines of fatigue around Justin’s mouth. Even his posture seemed different, more determined, more confident. Everything that defined Justin in Brian’s eyes – his shyness, his modesty, his hesitance, and his fears – was still there, Brian could see it; but there was definitely more, now, and Brian suddenly felt drawn towards this new Justin. Brian was curious, yes, but also… something else. Something Justin had already inspired in him, but that he now thought could become even stronger. Something…

“When you think you’ve had enough of staring at me, could you please leave?” Justin’s voice – and fuck, was that _sarcasm_? – interrupted Brian’s musings.

“Tell me,” Brian said, not giving a fuck how arrogant he sounded.

“Tell you? Tell you what exactly, Brian?”

“Something clearly happened here, and I want to know what.”

Justin’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide open and full of shock. “You… what gives you the right to… to…”

Smirking, and avoiding having to think about the fact that he found Justin’s stuttering cute – and also weirdly reassuring – Brian gestured for Justin to continue.

Justin shook his head, let out a tiny laugh that had no humour in it, then said, “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” Brian replied, “Now tell me something I _don’t_ know. What happened to you?”

“Why, Brian?” Justin asked, instead of answering.

“Why what?”

“Why are you here; why do you want to talk to me; why do you want to know things that are not your business; why do you care. I don’t know, take your pick.”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to answer a question with another question?” Brian said, raising an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that what you did, too, just then?” Justin replied, crossing his arms on his chest.

‘Little shit,’ Brian thought, with admiration. “Fine,” he said, then. “You answer mine, I answer yours. How’s that?”

Justin seemed to consider Brian’s proposal – even if a part of his mind was yelling at him that only a moment before he wanted Brian _out_! Why was he even considering bargaining with him?

“Okay,” Justin said, in the end. “You first.”

Brian let out a laugh, “Oh no, twat. My question came first, it will get answered first.”

“Fair enough,” Justin said. Then, without smiling, he revealed, “I remembered.”

“Remembered? What, you mean the bashing?”

“No more questions, Brian. You asked, I answered. Your turn.”

Brian stared at Justin, who stared back. The moment seemed to draw on forever, and it occurred to Justin that it was the first time he was having a battle of wills – and winning, too, since Brian relented.

“Right,” Brian said, in the end, and nodded. “Why am I here? Let’s see,” Brian started. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Ah ah,” Brian said, shaking a finger in Justin’s face. “Your turn, now,” he said then, with a victorious grin that made Justin understand he was far from winning a battle of wills with Brian Kinney.

“You didn’t ask any other question, Brian.”

“Let me remedy that,” Brian said, serious. “What exactly did you remember? Be _detailed_.”

“You can only ask a question, Brian, you cannot choose how I’ll answer.”

“Says who?” Brian asked, making Justin laugh. Despite the annoyance, despite the pain, despite knowing that soon Brian would leave never to return again, Justin had to admit that this conversation was making him feel alive; and that was something he hadn’t felt at all the past week. The week without Brian. Justin briefly wondered how a _life_ without Brian would feel, if a week had been so… dead.

Shaking his head, Justin finally replied, “I had a nightmare, and I remembered. I saw everything, heard everything. The pieces are in place, the puzzle is complete. As it turns out, the shrinks were right all along: Connect the pieces and you’ll be on the road to recovery. I guess that’s where I am now. There, satisfied now?”

“Are you…” Brian started, but Justin spoke, interrupting him.

“Your turn.”

“Fuck, Justin! Stop with this ‘my turn, your turn’ bullshit! I need you to tell me something, now, and I don’t fucking care whose turn is it. You answer this, then I’ll answer whatever bullshit you want to ask, okay?” Brian yelled, exasperated.

“One thing. I will answer one thing, then you’ll tell me all I want to know. Is this the deal?” Justin asked, and, after Brian nodded, he agreed.

“Are you okay?” Brian asked, his whole body rigid, his expression worried.

The question, even though Justin had expected it, caught him by surprise. Actually, it was his own reaction to it that surprised Justin more. He was feeling okay. Not good, not great, certainly _not_ healed; but… okay.

“Yes,” Justin said, after a long silence that had deepened the worry on Brian’s face. “Yes, I think I am. I’m okay,” and then, he smiled. Justin _smiled_ , really smiled.

‘Fuck!’ Brian thought looking at that smile, ‘did someone turn on every fucking light in this place?’ Taking a deep breath, his eyes still fixed on that smile, Brian said, “Good. That’s good.”

Justin nodded, the smile by then only a memory on his lips, then spoke, “Right, now you answer me, Brian, and then you leave.”

“This remains to be seen,” Brian said, voice so low Justin didn’t hear him and had to ask him to repeat. “Nothing, I said shoot.”

“You said you wanted to talk with me. What about?” was Justin’s first question.

Cursing Lindsay, Debbie and every single one of his friends, Brian sighed, and said, “The other day, when you… well, after Babylon, I said something. It wasn’t true.”

“You said a lot of things that day, Brian,” Justin said, pain vivid in his eyes at the memory. “What are you referring to?”

“The Good Samaritan bullshit.” Brian spat out quickly.

“The what?”

“The… oh, fuck!” Brian shouted, running a hand through his hair. “I was telling you how fucking is all that matters, and you asked where you fit in. I wasn’t fucking you, so why did I keep coming back? I told you…”

“That you felt sorry for me,” Justin interrupted, voice barely a whisper, back stiff and big eyes full of hurt. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I bet you do. Listen, that wasn’t… It wasn’t why… Christ! Is your fucking stuttering catching?” Brian said, glaring at Justin almost like he believed he had been infected.

Smiling sadly, Justin shook his head, and Brian sighed.

“Fuck, okay, I’ll say it. It wasn’t true, Justin.” Brian said, looking straight into Justin’s eyes. “I mean, it started out that way, with me wanting to see if my presence really helped you because… well, yes, because I _was_ sorry for what had happened to you. That was how it started, that was the reason why I came here the first time. It was not the reason why I returned for more than two fucking months, though.”

“It… wasn’t?” Justin asked, disbelief in his voice. He seemed scared, scared to believe in Brian’s words.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Then… why did you keep coming here, Brian? Why did you keep coming back?” Justin said the exact same words spoken a week before, and, after they left his mouth for the second time, he stood there, waiting to see if this time the answer could be different, and could heal instead of hurt.

“I don’t know,” Brian answered, and Justin saw everything crumble in front of himself.

“Yeah, right,” Justin said, turning his head, “Listen, you came here and we talked. Mission accomplished. Can you leave, now? I have work to do.”

“Justin,” Brian sighed, “what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything, Brian. I just want you to leave. Here, I’ll even escort you to the door,” Justin said, making his way towards Brian. When he was close enough to feel Brian’s warmth, Justin’s breath quickened, but he tried not to think about his body’s betrayal, and kept walking.

Brian’s hand on his arm stopped Justin. “Why are you queening out, now?” Brian whispered, directly in Justin’s ear.

Yanking his arm out of Brian’s grip, Justin yelled, “Don’t touch me! I’m _not_ queening out!”

“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing,” Brian smirked.

“God!” Justin shouted, face distorted in anger, “when you talk like that I could hit you!”

“Meow!” Brian joked, “the kitten has claws!”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Justin yelled, again.

“No!” With this word, Brian’s voice lost all its sarcasm.

“Why the fuck not?! You _don’t even know why you’re here_!” Justin’s arms were moving wildly, while he shouted at Brian.

“I… shit! Tell me. What the hell do you want from me?”

“The truth! I want the truth! Why are you here?”

“Because…”

“Because what?!”

“Because I…”

“You what?!”

It occurred to Justin that their shouting was almost comic now. Brian started yelling his answer to Justin’s question, only to stop at loss for words – or courage – and be urged on by Justin’s own screaming voice. It stopped being comic with Brian’s final shout.

“I fucking love you, you annoying, ungrateful, impossible brat!”

“Wha…” Justin’s body stopped moving, the whole world stopped spinning, and he just stood there and looked at Brian. “You… did you just… did you say what I think you said?”

“You see? This! This is why love is such bullshit! Questions! Answers! Demands! Fucking explanations! When you fuck someone you only need them to lube their asses, get into position, and the pleasure starts! No one asks ‘Did you just say what I thought you just said?’ when I tell them to get on all fours!” Brian was so outraged, that Justin couldn’t help himself, he had to giggle. “It’s not funny, you little shit! I don’t need love! I have everything I need in my life already!”

“Then why are you here, Brian?” Justin asked, gently this time.

“You… That man, the man you have in your head. He’s not me, Justin. He’s not.”

Brian’s answer surprised Justin, he had not expected Brian to mention that.

“I’m selfish,” Brian continued. “I’m sex driven, I’m careless. I’m no one’s fucking hero. Except with you. Why?”

“Why are you like that with me, Brian? Or, why can I see him in you?”

“Both.”

“I can see him because he’s inside you, I can see him because you want me to. I can see him because I love you. And you are him with me because you… uh…” Justin wanted so much to say the word but something was still stopping him. Self preservation.

“Love you,” Brian unwillingly finished for him, and Justin gave a little smile. “Now, what?” Brian asked, seemingly at loss.

“I’m really not an expert, Brian,” Justin said, “but I guess now we do this.” Justin walked close to Brian, wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed him.

They both knew there were still things to talk about, but at the moment all they needed was to feel connected.

They kissed.

  
**  
Chapter 19   
**   


If someone were to ask Justin how he had gone from being held in Brian’s arms to lying on the cot in his studio with a panting Brian rubbing against him, Justin wasn’t sure he would be able to answer them. He was sure of one thing, though: he didn’t care.

Only that morning, Justin thought he would never see Brian again, and while the idea had felt like a thorn in his heart, the newfound memories had kept him busy enough not to even think about it. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything had changed. Brian had come to him. He had said he loved Justin – even if he had looked like someone was pulling all his teeth, – and was now ready to take their relationship to the next level: sex. The question at the moment was: was _Justin_ ready for it?

“You’re thinking,” Brian said, startling Justin out of his thoughts. “If you’re still able to think, something is not right here,” he finished, half joking, half worried.

Justin smiled up at him, marvelling to see Brian blinking down at his smile, then, after kissing him softly, replied, “It’s just… a lot happened, and so very quickly. I…” Justin shook his head, not sure how to continue.

“You want us to stop, Sunshine?” Brian asked, holding himself up more firmly on his forearms, so that the major part of his weight was not on Justin anymore. Justin suddenly missed it.

“Sunshine?” Justin asked, puzzled, and was surprised to see a deep blush on Brian’s cheeks.

“It’s just that… fucking smile of yours,” Brian shrugged, and then added, “Yeah, that one,” when Justin’s face opened once again in that brilliant new smile of his.

“Sunshine,” Justin repeated, savoring the word. “I like it. So romantic…” he finished, winking.

Brian visibly shuddered, and Justin laughed, realizing that, while Brian seriously disliked the concept of romance, he was obviously exaggerating to make him relax. It was working, too, since Justin found himself tugging on Brian’s arms to make him lie completely on him again. Brian complied, and the two of them kissed gently for a while. Then, Justin spoke.

“I don’t want to stop, Brian. I want this. I want you. It’s just… I’ve never… never…” Justin’s voice trailed off, and he averted his eyes. On top of being scared, he was now feeling very insecure. Would Brian be satisfied with an inexperienced partner?

“Hey,” Brian said, softly. “Look at me.” When Justin did, Brian continued, “We’ll go slow, okay? We’ll go to your rhythm, and if it’s too much, you’ll tell me.” Justin stared up at Brian, and nodded. “Good. There’s something I need to know, though, and you have to be completely honest with me, Justin, okay?” Brian waited for Justin to nod again, then said, “Nothing is going to happen here, tonight, unless you’re sure that’s what you want. So I’m asking you, and I want an honest answer: Are you sure?”

Justin ran his hand through Brian’s hair, and looked at him with an adoring expression. Was he sure? No, Justin wasn’t sure. He was scared, terrified; but he wanted it, he wanted _Brian_. Justin wanted Brian in every possible way, and he knew he still trusted him, even if he had thought that trust had been seriously compromised only a few hours prior. Justin knew that, this time, he didn’t want to let his fears get in the way. He wasn’t sure, no, but he was ready.

“I want you inside me,” Justin whispered on Brian’s lips, and was rewarded by the twitch of Brian’s cock against his.

Brian started kissing him, gently at first, then more and more hungrily. Justin was clinging to Brian like he was a life saver, and he was trembling all over. Breaking the kiss, Brian asked again if Justin was sure, and, after staring in those deep blue eyes for a long time and smiling at Justin’s nod, Brian rose and shed all his clothes.

Justin swallowed when he could finally see Brian in all his naked glory. “You like what you see, Sunshine?” Brian asked, smirking.

“I… uh…” Justin’s voice failed him, so he nodded once again.

Brian winked, then outstretched his hand to help Justin up, too. Once Justin was on his feet, Brian hugged him close and kissed him again. The feeling of Brian’s bare, hard cock on his jean-clad one made Justin moan into the kiss, he was already so worked up that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself.

“What do you say we take off some of these clothes?” Brian asked.

Looking into Brian’s eyes, Justin took a step back and then took off his shirt revealing a toned and very pale chest. Then, lowering his head, Justin started fumbling with the buttons of his jeans, but his hands were trembling too much and he wasn’t able to open them.

Brian walked close to him and held Justin’s hands in his. “Let me,” he said, and then rubbed his head against Justin’s, making him lift his face, and give a shy smile that touched something deeply into Brian’s chest.

Easily, Brian unbuttoned Justin’s pants but, before lowering them, he slipped a hand inside and caressed Justin’s hardness through his boxers. Brian gazed with lustful eyes at the way Justin’s mouth opened in a silent scream, and he couldn’t resist kissing him passionately again.

After taking off Justin’s jeans and underwear, Brian made him lie back on the bed with his legs spread open. He started by kissing Justin briefly on the mouth, then began a journey down his neck, chest, abdomen, and legs. When Brian finally reached Justin’s groin, the boy was writhing on the bed, moaning uncontrollably. Brian laughed hotly directly over Justin’s cock, and Justin’s back arched.

“Please, Brian… please,” Justin pleaded, his voice barely a whisper.

“You want this, Sunshine?” Brian asked again.

“Yes, yes! Just please… Please!”

“Bossy,” Brian joked before taking Justin’s erection deep inside his mouth.

Justin screamed Brian’s name and fisted the sheets, trying with every ounce of strength not to come immediately. Feeling the need to combine the physical pleasure with the visual one, Justin lifted his own head to admire Brian’s bobbing up and down. There was something incredibly arousing in seeing a man like Brian concentrating on someone else’s pleasure. Brian’s hands were on Justin’s legs, caressing him, soothing him almost, and Brian’s mouth was working its magic on him. Everything Brian was doing now was for _Justin’s_ pleasure, not his own. That thought, combined with the incredible pleasure that talented mouth was giving him, proved to be too much for Justin. He came, his whole body shuddering, and a loud groan escaping his mouth.

Justin was still catching his breath when Brian once again made his way up his body, and started rubbing his cock against Justin’s leg. “You didn’t…” Justin started, but his mind was still too numb to allow him to talk properly.

Brian obviously understood both Justin’s situation and his question, and he said, “No, I didn’t, Sunshine. Do you want to do something about that?”

“You… uh… want me to… uh… reciprocate?” Justin asked, and looked down at Brian’s still hard cock. Justin felt his mouth water and his own cock respond.

“Tempting,” Brian said, smirking. “I might take you up on your offer later. There’s something else I want more, now.” Justin felt a deep blush on his cheeks at these words, but he smiled at Brian and nodded. Brian reached down the bed for his pants, and retrieved the little bottle of lube from his pocket, and a condom from his wallet. For once, Justin was glad Brian always came prepared because he certainly didn’t have anything in his own house.

Discarding his pants, Brian kissed Justin softly before lifting his legs and kneeling between them. “Come on, put your legs on my shoulders,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. When he had Justin in position, he started applying the lube. His fingers played with Justin’s ass for a while, and every coherent thought left Justin’s mind. The only thing that mattered was Brian, the only thing Justin could focus on were those wet fingers inside him.

When Brian was sure that Justin was ready, he rolled the condom on himself and slowly pressed against Justin’s rim. “Take a deep breath,” Brian whispered, and waited for Justin to inhale. The moment Justin exhaled, Brian thrust in and pushed until he was almost fully inside.

Justin’s sharp intake of breath told Brian that, predictably, the boy was hurting. “Shh,” Brian soothed, “Just relax, now.”

“Hurts…” Justin said, trembling.

“I know, but I promise it’ll get better, soon.” Brian said, then gathering all the strength he had, asked, “Do you want to stop?” Brian closed his eyes, waiting. If Justin wanted to stop, he would stop, of course; but it would be hell for him to pull out now.

“No,” Justin said, filling Brian with relief. “Just… slow, okay? Go slow.”

Brian started moving, very slowly, letting Justin learn the rhythm, and letting him guide the depth of the penetration. Soon, Justin relaxed and allowed Brian to go deeper inside him. Soon, he started urging Brian, and asking him to go harder and faster. Soon, their coupling became frantic and the room was filled with moans, groans, screams, and the sound of their bodies rubbing against one another.

Justin stopped thinking about the pain, the fear, the novelty of having someone inside him, and just felt. He concentrated on watching Brian, his wet hair, his tightly closed eyes, his open mouth, the sounds he made, his wonderful body. Brian. Nothing else mattered.

This time, Justin was able to hold off his orgasm, and wait for Brian so that they came together, screaming each other’s name, trembling and breathing hard. Brian released Justin’s legs and then collapsed on top of him. Justin held him close, held him so tight he was afraid he would hurt him, and then whispered, “I love you.”

Justin felt Brian go rigid in his hold, and he stiffened, too. Had he ruined everything once again? Was Brian about to run away and leave him alone?

“I…” Justin started, but Brian interrupted him with a kiss.

“I’m not going to say it over and over, Sunshine,” Brian said, “so you better get used to this.”

“Used to what?”

“Used to be the one saying it. Used to not having an answer. Used to not have _words_ as an answer.” Brian looked straight into Justin’s eyes.

Justin smiled, and asked, “And what will I get as an answer when I say ‘I love you’?”

“Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll show you,” Brian replied, tongue in cheek, making Justin laugh out loud.

“If you’re gonna fuck me every time I tell you I love you, we’ll never leave this bed!”

“I see you’re starting to see the big picture, Sunshine. Such a clever lad you are,” Brian winked, and they both laughed.

They kissed some more, then Brian rolled them over so that Justin was on top of him. Justin became serious and asked, “Will you ever say it, Brian?”

“Say what?”

Justin swatted Brian’s chest. “You know what.”

“I might say it. Once every few years.”

“Years, uh?” Justin said, pleased. “Are we talking about a future here?”

Brian shrugged. “I don’t know. Are we?”

“Briiiaaan!” Justin whined.

With a put upon sigh, Brian kissed Justin gently. “You’re high maintenance, Sunshine.”

“I know,” Justin replied, smug. “So, are we talking about a future?”

“Do I have a choice?” Brian asked, smirking.

“No, you don’t.”

“Then let’s say that _you_ are talking about a future, and I am choosing not to shut you up,” Brian said.

“How kind of you,” Justin said, smiling. “Wait,” he added as if in an afterthought, “Does this mean you’ll introduce me to your friends, now?”

Brian seemed to ponder Justin’s question. “Some of them already know about you, and Gus loves you. I think it’ll be impossible for me to keep you hidden. My condolences, Sunshine. You’re about to be adopted by the _family_.”

“Brian! They can’t be so bad! Can they?” Justin asked, a bit anxious. It was true that he was making progress, but he still didn’t feel comfortable around too many strangers.

Brian held him close, and said, “They can be a bit overwhelming, but I won’t unleash them all on you at the same time. I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy,” Brian’s tone was sarcastic, but Justin could clearly hear the deep affection Brian felt for his friends, too.

“I’ll be fine, as long as you’re with me,” Justin said, looking Brian in the eye.

Brian gazed at him for a long time, and finally said, “I will always be with you.”

Justin decided that, all things considered, he really didn’t need the words ‘I love you’ out of that mouth, and instead he kissed it thoroughly. They lay on the bed in comfortable silence for a while, until Justin asked, “What happens now? I mean, where do we start? How do we-”

Brian silenced him with a kiss. “Well, I remember someone offering a blowjob. That’s always a good way to start.”

Justin laughed.

Nothing was decided, nothing was magically healed or mended, nothing in their future was sure; but they were together, and they had time. Brian was right, for now, a blowjob was the best place to start.

  
**  
Chapter 20– Epilogue   
**   


One year later.

Brian was standing in front of the fireplace in the living room. He had his hands behind his back and was staring at the canvas hung above the mantle.

“I still can’t believe you bought it,” the sound of Justin’s voice caused Brian to turn around. “Why did you, Brian?”

“Why did I what? Spend money on it when I could have it for free?” Brian asked, tongue in cheek.

Justin laughed. “What makes you so sure I wouldn’t charge you for it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Let’s see. There’s the painting in my office at Kinnetik: I remember a certain blond boy being adamant about giving it to me for free. Then, there’s the one that’s hanging on the wall behind Cynthia’s desk: A Justin Taylor original, worth millions, and not a cent left my pockets for it. Then I might add, there’s the…” Brian’s list was interrupted by Justin.

“Okay, okay, you made your point!” Justin said, giggling. “Then why did you buy this one?”

Brian stared at Justin for a moment more, then turned back towards the painting. The canvas was the one Justin was working on during the snow storm that had brought them together. It depicted a house enveloped in the snow, and a lonely figure approaching it. The man was barely discernible, his shoulders hung, his face lowered. Fighting the unkind weather to reach the house, the man followed a light that shone from one of the windows; he sought refuge, warmth, and help. Brian knew that man was about to find so much more than that.

Sighing, Brian faced Justin again and, realizing the boy was still waiting for an answer, he shrugged. “I wanted to. There’s just something in it. Something that called out to me.”

Justin crossed the room to reach Brian, and embraced his strong frame. Placing his head on Brian’s shoulder, Justin said, “Do you remember that night?”

“I remember sleeping on your fucking couch, yeah.”

Justin smiled up at Brian. “Like the one you chose to replace it with is so much better!” Justin said.

“That’s an Italian couch, you tasteless little shit.”

“Be it as it may, it’s still fucking uncomfortable,” Justin replied, shaking his head.

Brian mock-glared at him, then said, “Well, the master bedroom and the guest rooms are all furnished now, so no one will ever have to sleep on this couch.”

“What about sitting comfortably on it?” Justin loved bickering with Brian like that.

“If you hate sitting on it so much, I have something better for you to sit on when we watch TV,” Brian said, smirking, and Justin laughed. They kissed, then Brian continued, “Right, time to start with the preparations, Sunshine. The family will be here soon. I still can’t believe you didn’t let Emmett do all the work!”

“I… like to cook and…I…” Nowadays, Justin didn’t stutter as much as he did before, but the stutter always came back when he was nervous. Brian held him close until he calmed down, then waited for Justin to finish his sentence. Taking a deep breath and inhaling Brian’s scent, Justin finally said, “Emmett wanted to send his staff here to do all the work, but… all those people, Brian, I… I’m sorry but I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Brian said, his chin resting on top of Justin’s head. “I like your cooking better, anyway,” he continued, earning a sweet kiss from Justin.

“I won’t have to do all the cooking, though,” Justin said, then. “Debbie is bringing lasagna, and Emmett is in charge of the desserts.”

“Calories. Great. Just what I needed.” Brian’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“Behave, Brian,” Justin said, smiling. “You’re doing it for Gus’ birthday.” Then, as if in an afterthought, Justin added, “Did you ask Lindsay and Melanie if Gus can spend the weekend here with us?”

“I did something better, Sunshine. I told Gus, and let him handle the situation,” Brian said, smirking.

“Brian! You’re not supposed to do things like that!”

“Why not? It worked.”

Shaking his head, Justin left the comfort of Brian’s embrace and made his way towards the kitchen, followed closely by a smirking Brian. While he crossed the hall, Justin couldn’t help but think about how different his house looked. Only one year before, it was a ghost house, empty, silent, and alone, just like its owner. Now, it was full of life, completely furnished, repainted, and filled with sounds of all kind – voices, laughter, but especially moans and groans. The house had even a name now. Justin smiled remembering how, after a particularly hot night together, he had thrown out ideas to name the house, and how much he had loved hearing _Britin_ on Brian’s lips when he had suggested that one.

Once in the kitchen, Justin started chopping mushrooms while Brian opened a bottle of wine for the two of them. When the doorbell rang, Brian went to open the door, and soon Justin could hear his best friend’s voice.

“…and then I said, ‘no way am I going to wait for you to make the first move!’ So I went up to him and kissed him, just like you said,” Daphne was telling Brian.

“And?” Justin had to smile at Brian’s bored tone. He always pretended to be bored with Daphne’s love life, but then he was the first to to ask about her boyfriends and give her advice.

“What do you think? We fucked all night!” Daphne finished entering the kitchen, and kissing Justin.

“There’s my girl,” Brian said, making the two friends laugh.

It hadn’t been easy for Daphne to trust Brian again when he and Justin had gotten back together. She had been quick to forget their very first encounter and accept Brian the first time, but Daphne couldn’t forget the ‘silent week,’ as she had started calling the time when Justin refused to speak. To his credit, Justin had to admit that Brian hadn’t tried to force himself on Daphne. With his usual nonchalance, Brian had let her be, let her observe his behavior, let her ask him questions – even if he rarely answered with more than one word. In the end, Daphne had decided she could trust Brian again and had told him one night, “You’re in again, Kinney. Disappoint me, and you’re dead.” Brian had laughed, and things had progressed from there.

Justin and Daphne cooked together all afternoon, with little help from Brian who claimed he could well order Thai and be done with it, then the family started to arrive.

The first ones were Ted and Blake. Among Brian’s friends, they were the closest to Justin, along with Debbie, Vic, and Lindsay. He immediately had felt at ease with them, and they were often invited for dinner at Britin. Brian and Ted disappeared immediately into Brian’s office. Justin quickly warned, “Don’t you even think about working tonight!” Blake, joined Justin and Daphne in the kitchen, and helped them with the preparations.

Brian and Ted were forced to come out of the office sooner than they expected when the doorbell rang again. Since Justin was busy preparing everything, Brian knew he was the one in charge of the door that night. Brian greeted Emmett, who immediately made a beeline for the kitchen. He then guided Drew and Ted towards the living room, where he poured them a drink.

One by one, all of their friends, including Justin’s mother and sister, arrived, and soon they all sat at the big table in the living room for dinner. As usual, Justin didn’t talk much, but no one made him feel excluded from the conversation. From time to time, Brian squeezed Justin’s hand under the table, and got a smile in response. The progress Justin had made was huge, and the new psychiatrist he was seeing twice a week was very proud of him; but the road ahead was still long, and more time would have to pass before Justin could feel at ease in a crowd, even a friendly one.

Sitting at his table between his partner and their son (Gus had started calling Justin ‘Daddy Jus’ soon after he and Brian had gotten together,) Justin observed his new life. The time when he had hidden from the world wasn’t too far away, the fear that had gripped him and precluded him any kind of contact was still inside him; but now he was strong enough to face it, strong enough to make his way in the world. Now, he had someone beside him, someone to love, someone to trust. Now, he lived.

Outside, gentle snowflakes started to fall, and Justin smiled.

The End.


End file.
